


Rosewood Anemones

by Kokoai



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: (Sorey Rose Alisha and Mikleo), Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Coffin Maker AU, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not game accurate geography, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Burn, Terminal Illnesses, semi-modern
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-11-12 10:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kokoai/pseuds/Kokoai
Summary: Living as a woodworker crafting furniture and nicknacks in the small town of Elysia, Sorey lead a peaceful lifestyle. Pieces came and went along with customers, most never leaving a lasting impression. Never could Sorey have imagined the day a beautiful boy, with knowledge of ancient history rivaling his own, would come in to order a coffin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Over a month of hiding this secret project and I'm finally posting and it feels so surreal. 
> 
> Many shoutouts and thanks to [OccassionaArtist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalArtist/pseuds/OccasionalArtist) (amarietie on tumblr) for both letting me write this au of hers and beta reading for it. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy and please leave any and all comments.

That sterile smell that always accompanied hospitals is exactly what kept Sorey out of them. Even after three years of monthly trips here, he never could adjust to it. Clutching the strap crossing his chest just a little tighter, he continued down the halls, nodding and waving towards the staff that greeted him. The relief of ducking through the doorway of the Turtlez gift shop never came soon enough.

“Well heyz therez Sorey. Wha’dya got this month?” A small boy drenched in orange from head to toe sprang up from behind the desk.

“Hey Orange. Just some small stuff. Pendants and tags. Nothing special unfortunately.”

“Don’t worry about it. Youz stuff always sellz well. Very well.” Sorey turned towards the second voice. Leaning against the door frame was boy identical to Orange, except drenched in white.

“White! When did you get back?” Sorey beamed.

“Eh, just a couple dayz ago.” He waved a hand as he came to stand next to Orange.

“Oh, did I hear that voice correct?” A third voice, one Sorey barely recognized, yet nonetheless he gleefully met.

“Dark. You’re back too?” Orange zipped around the counter and crossed the room in a blurr. White only a moment behind. Then, the three were deep in conversation that Sorey could barely follow. He chuckled as he made his way to the unofficial woodwork section and started silently setting up his wares.

Before he'd emptied half his bag, the three brothers surrounded him, discerning eyes scanning every piece. Orange and Dark staying longer on each piece than White, who moved around the whole picture. They were eccentric for sure, nonetheless, top notch merchants.

Once everything was in place, he turned towards White. No words were needed for Sorey to be handed an envelope, full of his take of last month's profit. A few words of what they'd like to see next month, and Sorey was off to handle his other errand.

Moving down empty halls, he found himself near the garden. The term being used loosely. Elysia Medical had been built strangely, in that a rectangular section in the center had been left as an external space. For years it was just a place for patients to get fresh air. Now it sat as a stunning garden fitted with numerous flora.

For as much as Sorey passed by, he'd never actually stepped into it. Today, he had actually contemplated it, but seeing someone else there changed his mind.

A man with silver hair with pale aquamarine tips, bright violet eyes, and skin like snow melded together into what had to be the most gorgeous person Sorey had ever seen. He sat with his nose buried in a book. Part of Sorey, recognizing the book, wanted to strike up conversation— he knew two people, one being himself, that had read The Chronicles of Maotelus. His sister, being the other, hadn’t made it past the first chapter; her lack of fluency in the ancient tongue made it a hard read. But this person flipped pages nearly at the end with a speed that rivaled Sorey’s.

Sorey forced himself along, both realizing he'd been staring, and that he still had business to tend to. Silently, he hoped to cross paths with them again, and if they had the book then he would approach without hesitation.

A large sigh left him as he twisted down more halls. To think there were others in his small hometown that could read the ancient tongue. That he wasn’t alone in that interest filled him with an excitement he could barely contain. Taking a deep breath to calm his thoughts, he rounded the last corner leading to his destination.

Unsurprisingly, the owner was absent, but the door left ajar with a red feather hanging from the knob. Sorey pushed through into a rather lavishly decorated office. Well, lavish is how Lailah put it. Sorey just saw a collection of his work. And here he was adding another piece. How could he do any less for his best customer though?

Reaching into his bag, he retrieved a round figure. He never did understand her obsession with round things, but it had been an oddly fun piece. Setting what she called Arma Dylan on the desk, he turned back towards the door, after tucking the envelope addressed to him atop the things in her uppermost drawer. His policy for regulars was that he didn’t take payment until he’d received their 100% satisfaction.

Moving back through his route to exit the hospital, he passed the garden again, only now it was empty. Opting to save his garden experience for another day, he pushed on and out of the hospital with little more than few passing words to staff that hadn’t seen him come in.

Making his way down the side road that would lead back to his shop, Sorey turned his phone back on to see the inevitable texts from Rose, who had agreed to watch his shop for a few hours.

_Hurry it up would ya?_

_C’mon. Sorey. You know I have a lunch date._

_Soreeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy_

He chuckled. Of course he knew she had time sensitive plans, but she didn’t know his job was to stall her. Ignoring her messages, he dialed Alisha. After ensuring his job was no longer needed, he quickened his pace.

Barely in sight, he could see the fuming redhead behind the glass front of the shop.   Before he’d even reached the door, she bolted, hands latching onto his collar. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing his neck. Her brows relaxed as she sighed and released her grip.

“Ugh. You have the worst poker face. I knew something was up when you wouldn’t answer.”

“Hey! I had to make the usual visit It just… happened to be convenient for her.”

“Whatever. I’ve got a hot date to get to. Not that you would know anything about that.” She waggled her eyebrows at him as she elbowed his side. Sorey gave a light shove to her shoulder.

“She’s impatient you know.” Rose went wide eyed after checking her phone and spoke some form of tongue that Sorey could only assume meant goodbye before she vanished.

Shaking his head, he pushed through the green framed glass door, and slumped into the desk chair, eyes falling across the blue-toned gray tiled floors and gradually up the four spaced out tables covered with an array of knick-knacks, sculptures, and other oddball items.

Every part of him wanted to slink into the back, curl up in a corner and take a nap. Fighting that instinct he instead pulled out his sketchbook and at least put some measly attempt into his work. That plan failed as his head fell onto the paper, and his eyes slid shut.

Staying up to sunrise with Rose and Alisha had been a mistake. One he’d known he’d regret when he had to leave the house after only sleeping a few hours for the hospital delivery. He stirred against his makeshift pillow, before forcing himself to sit up and continue ‘working’. Work being mindlessly doodling designs for future projects instead of adding to the things he’d already started.

Once he’d made the decision to use his phone as a music player, hours ticked by unnoticed and while it didn’t qualify as top notch work, he’d at least progressed with detailing things. He felt the itch to start something, but what to start is where he debated.

He straightened, raising his arms over his head before closing his sketchbook, set on moving into the back to fire up the lathe, except he did this just in time for the bells attached to the front door to chime. He was ready to start his usual greeting, when he realized this was no stranger.

"Busy at work like usual?" Red tipped silver-green hair swayed with each step.

"Yeah," he paused to scratch his head, "first time in a while I haven't had a list of commissions so my personal projects got backed up." She gasped, a fist coming over her chest.

"Well that's no good!"

"I know I know. You always snap up my newest pieces." His huff was met with a shining smile.

“Speaking of,” she reached into the pocket of her long white coat and held out an envelope “will you please just start taking what I leave?” She huffed. Her glare made him feel like a five year old being scolded.

“Alright, alright.” This wouldn’t be the last time this conversation happened.

“I suppose now wouldn’t be appropriate for setting another commission?” She faced him directly, eyes soft, and arms falling to her sides.

“Geez Lailah. You really can’t get enough. So long as it’s not a big one again.”

“Oh no. Just… another pendant.” Sorey sank a little. That had been what first brought Lailah to him when he was starting out.

“Can’t turn that down now can I?”

“You most certainly can. But I suppose that’s enough for me to say I’ll be back in a few days once I’ve gotten permission.” Lailah had been about to add something else when her phone went off. She sighed before answering, but not in her usual singsong tone. The call ended in less than a minute.

“I swear I can’t escape. It was nice seeing you for even a little.” She waved as she made her way out the door. Sorey shook his head. He couldn’t fathom the burdens of being the head doctor for an entire hospital. Even if Elysia’s was small in comparison.

Sorey leaned back, hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. _Another one…_ How she voluntarily took on those cases baffled him even more. Spending all that time getting to know someone when you know they’re on a short clock. He couldn’t do it in a thousand life times, but he held the utmost respect for Lailah choosing that path.

Before his thoughts could travel much further, the bells chimed again.

“Welcome to Aroundight Woods!” He beamed at a new face. As the person stepped further inside and out of the beating sunlight, Sorey wondered if his heart had skipped a beat. Aquamarine-tipped silver hair bounced through the door. He quickly threw on his best smile as he rounded the desk.

“Anything I can help you find? Or just browsing?” It was his usual spiel, but he’d nearly forgotten the words this time. The man held a hand to his chin as he glanced over a few of the larger works adorning the walls.

“I wanted to inquire about custom pieces?” Sorey hadn’t anticipated a voice like wind chimes.

“That’s kinda what I specialize in. Mostly furniture or knick-knacks, like lock boxes or tops, but there’s hardly a thing I’ll refuse.” Excitement rushed through him. Even though he’d been happy at the thought of returning to personal projects, he delighted more in pieces for others. The small man turned away, intently focused on a random sculpture sitting on a shelf.

“Have you… ever done a coffin?” Not an unusual question, but he’d never received it from someone so young.

“Quite a few.” Sorey had the urge to ramble about how many he’d done and how personal and individual each piece had been, but he held his tongue. Though after a few moments of heavy silence, he spoke again.

“I like to personalize them though. Any idea what kind of wood they’d like?” Starting simple was always his method. Never knowing how well people would handle the questions, and having asked his fair share of wrong questions, he’d learned to let the customer have all the power. The man raised a hand to his chin, thoughtful eyes lazing to the side.

“Mahogany has a nice color to it, though I’m more partial to Cherry. But if I had to pick a single type, well, I do have a soft spot for Rosewood.” A surprisingly chipper voice accompanied those sparkling eyes that Sorey couldn’t tear himself away from.

He knew he’d been staring, though unintentionally. Those words took some long moments to sink in. Still recoiling from recognizing this man from the hospital garden, his mind started jumping, looking for missing puzzle pieces. As his lips started to form sounds, he inhaled. Lightly biting his lip he did his best to stifle any outward reaction.

“Cherry is pretty easy to come by. Mahogany, while I can get, costs a lot. And I mean a lot. Rosewood I can get as easy as Oak, but real cost for you is in labor.” He hoped his voice had stayed calm. _Treat it like anything else._ Sorey became distracted in watching the man run fingers over a woodburned image of pillars with eye shaped designs.

“I see you have penchant for Temperance of Avarost styles.” Somehow, Sorey managed to shove the heavy thoughts out of his mind, he knew nothing of this man, and believing him to be like one of Lailah’s patients would do no good.

“Wha—? Wait, you actually recognize it?” Sorey stammered. Hardly anyone caught the motifs any older than a couple centuries. There was light chuckle as the man spun around to a table full of sculptures. He gently picked up one, after requesting permission, and turned it around and around before setting it back down.

“You even pull from the Era of the Gods? I must say I’m impressed.” He crossed a leg over the other as he leaned back.

“People love the styles that came out of that era, yet no one even knows where they originate.” Sorey’s arms crossed.

“Tell me about it. It’s a real shame how little history people know.” By this point he had turned to face Sorey, hair swaying with the shaking of his head that followed his statement. Sorey bounced to the desk, haphazardly reaching for his sketchbook and flipped to a page that had crudely drawn patterns and buildings, sectioned by a set of rune-like scribbles. He held out a spread.

“What I really love is seeing how these different styles can mesh today, and it’s kinda the inspiration for a lot of my work.” Sorey realized he was a hair away from full on rambling, something he’d only ever done with his sister. While she had her interest in history, it still paled against Sorey’s.

Hands reached for the book, and Sorey, uncharacteristically, let the book go. He tended to guard it like a diary, yet here he felt comfortable letting this stranger handle it.

“You can write in the ancient tongue?” Sparkling violet eyes shot up. Heat rushed through Sorey’s face. He’d forgotten about that being with these sketches.

“I, uh, may have taught myself…” He turned away. He’d seen enough scorn in response to that, but he anticipated a different reaction this time.

“So I take it you’ve read all the Shepherd myths then?” The man smirked as his arms crossed.

“You mean the Chronicles of Maotelus?” Sorey’s enthusiasm grew more difficult to contain.

Pales lips gaped, eyes wide and wild, arms falling as he floundered for words.  “Seriously?” He finally stammered. This lead to Sorey bringing a chair up from the back room and the two talking and exchanging thoughts and opinions and theories on a thousand years worth of history. By the time either of them swam out of their bubble, sunset was looming. The other man sat up, checked his phone, and then faced Sorey again.

“I should be on my way. I shouldn’t have taken up so much of your business time.” He lowered his head towards Sorey.

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine. Actually, if you wanted to swing by again, I’ve got a few pieces I’d love to show someone who’ll see the history etched in.”

“Sounds great.” With a small smile, he headed for the door.

“Ah, wait. I uh, didn’t catch your name…” Sorey scratched at his jaw. That typically only got asked once a deal had been started.

“Mikleo. Though it’s sort of rude to not give yours first.”

“Ah, crap. Sorry. I’m Sorey.” All his years of doing this and building these social skills, and they all became nonexistent.

“See you later Sorey.” Mikleo gave a wave before pushing out the door.

Sitting back at the desk, Sorey couldn’t fight the stretching smile. He found his phone amongst the mess of papers, opened up his messaging and quickly typed a message to Alisha.

_Oh man do I have something to tell you when I get home._

She hadn’t responded and she wouldn’t. He waited out another hour just in case he had any last minute customers. Gathering all his books and supplies, he hurried towards the door. Streets empty and night fallen, he decided closing shop thirty minutes early wouldn’t hurt business.

While he’d usually take the scenic back streets, he settled for main streets since the route was shorter. He knew how silly and childish he was being, getting this excited over someone he’d probably only speak with for this commission. Yet, he couldn’t contain himself. He felt like he may have found his equal in all things history.

Only half way up the stairs of his apartment complex, before he even had time to start searching for his keys, the door swung open. There was a silent moment as he took in the rare sight of blonde hair pulled into a bun.

“Well don’t just stand there! What happened at the shop?” She pulled him inside. Sorey kicked off his shoes, waved at Rose sitting in the armchair, and tossed his bag beside the couch before falling onto it on his back. Setting a forearm over his head, he recounted those four hours that changed his entire week.

“So this guy came in, and sure he seemed a little odd at first, but Alisha. He recognized the styles I use.

“He’s versed in history. Not like that’s rare.” Rose chimed, Alisha sitting on the floor in front of her. Rose began twisting and sectioning Alisha’s hair, leading Sorey to assume Alisha had let herself be convinced to try new hairstyles again.

“But he even recognized the Era of the Gods styles. And, he can read the ancient tongue.” Sorey had meant to keep his excitement from seeping into his words.

“Aw shit. I think your brother finally has a crush.” Rose grinned at Alisha, even though she couldn’t see it.

“I just met him! And besides…” He sank further into the couch. In the excitement at having found someone seemingly as into history as he was, all memory of what had lead to the meeting had been buried. Alisha hummed as she turned to look at him. After long silence and Sorey turning onto his side facing away from them, Rose spoke up.

“What’s the catch? Too young? Too old? Here on vacation?” Sorey sighed, his head laying on one arm, while the other curled around his waist.

“He… he came in to order a coffin.” His voice went hoarse. He knew he was getting in over his head, and jumping to worst possible conclusions.

“Ouch. For a lover I take it?” By this point Rose had ceased with Alisha’s hair and both of them were gazing at Sorey’s back.

“No… I think… I’m pretty sure it’s for him.” Sorey visibly tensed up with the words.

“Hey, he’s probably just a forward thinker.” Rose assured.

“It is a practical thing to be planning in advance.” Alisha agreed. Sorey mentally slapped himself. How could he have let his mind go to the darkest depths so easily? He stirred into a sitting position, facing the girls again.

They had a valid argument. People had come to him before making these arrangements for well into the future. Sorey had even planned out his own. The truly unnerving part was the order coming from someone seemingly his age. 

Sorey did his best to push the thoughts away and focus on the late night coffee Rose offered him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for another chapter, but sadly, this could be the last one for awhile because life likes to thwart my plans.

Flipping through every pocket of his satchel, triple checking that he had everything, Sorey finally turned to Alisha poised behind the oak desk.

“You really don’t mind running things solo?” He asked.

“Not at all. Besides, you’re going for a business meeting. Not a date.” She smiled.

“Oh man. Rose’s got you on that too?” Sorey’s shoulders slumped along with his head. Alisha giggling behind her hand only worsened his slump.

“I know. He’s just a customer, but you never know where things will go.” 

Finally righting himself, he once again checked his bag. He’d done countless meetings like this yet he somehow always forgot something. One last glance around the shop, and he said his goodbyes and made his way outside.

He lazily spun as he walked, enjoying the warm sunlight from a cloudless sky. Excitement ran through him. Work had kept him from leisurely strolling through the trees Elysia was built around. Never did a day pass where he didn’t marvel at how Elysia had started as a mountain top town and spread into the forest, yet hardly removed a tree. In his twenty three years, he’d never seen one removed, only continual building around them.

Opposite the tree line gave way to the original Elysia, and there sat mostly homes of the elders, but between them, next to a shallow natural pond, was a larger hut that had been renovated into a library.

Sorey crossed through the doorway as easily as he would his own home. Natalie, the librarian and owner of the building since pre-renovation, greeted him as usual, and questioned what reading he’d be hunting down. His head shake earned a questioning hum and a head tilt. He glanced around the tables on other side of her desk. He earned an understanding hum once she followed his eyes to a head of silver.

With only an exchange of knowing glances, he left Natalie to her business. As relaxed as usual, Sorey pulled out the chair across from Mikleo and sat down like he would for any other meeting. Everything was second nature at this point, save for the oddly heavy beating of his heart. He brushed it aside as just a result of finding this particular customer attractive, but Sorey had never been the type to go after someone on looks alone.

“Good morning.” Mikleo had closed his book and looked up with a warm smile all in one motion.

“Morning.” Sorey replied before digging through his bag for both a notebook and a smaller sketchbook than his usual. As he set things on the table, he noticed the stack of books beside Mikleo.

“Age of Darkness, huh?”

“It’s really fascinating to see how humanity shifted from coexisting seamlessly to all these divides appearing seemingly out of nowhere.”

“I always get goosebumps reading about things that happened.” Sorey shivered at the thoughts alone.

“I get that. Bad times all around, but the art that was produced is still stunning.” Mikleo shifted backwards into his chair, arms coming to rest on the table.

“Craft workers had a huge movement too. That’s actually where a lot of coffin making techniques still used today originate.” Sorey hadn’t thought until the words left his mouth. Part of him expected Mikleo to shrink back, even though that’s what they were here to talk about.

“To last that long, those must be seriously solid techniques.” Mikleo held a hand to his chin, talking more to himself than Sorey.

“With how rampant diseases were, craftsmen had to find quick and cheap methods they could reproduce easily. Designs became simple and less meaningful, more focused on a solid structure, but the general population preferred it.”

“Makes sense. Why get all detailed with something that gets buried?”

“It’s why I couldn’t specialize in them; it may be an outdated belief, but I still think that both what someone is buried in and with affects their afterlife.”

“Definitely outdated. Old and uncool,” Mikleo smirked “but it’s why I came to you.” His head lowered, eyes falling with it. “So… how do we start this? Can’t say I’ve ever ordered something like this before.” He stammered.

“Well, we got Rosewood being your preference, so next would be figuring out design elements, and anything symbolic you want to include.”

“There’s so many styles though… of course I love Avarost and the like used in the Lefay Shrine…” Mikleo’s ramblings went on nearly non-stop, Sorey nodding and humming as he took notes and narrowed down the specifics of what he liked, all to keep him talking so Sorey could eventually find the patterns that Mikleo likely wasn’t aware of.

All of Sorey’s years doing custom work and he’d learned that people always had penchants and patterns in what they liked, yet most people never noticed. So he’d do this; get them just talking and extrapolate those patterns. As Sorey flipped a page, Mikleo stopped abruptly.

“You… You’ve been taking that many notes?”

“Sorry. Should I have asked first?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just… not used to people following along… with everything.” His stunned eyes fell onto Sorey’s notebook, catching all the margin notes. Sorey scribbled a few last notes before pulling over his sketchbook. He went into his bag, looking for one thing that was not there. He had checked his bag three times, and what had he forgotten? A ruler. His audible groan met a raised eyebrow. He hesitated to admit the situation. He’d have accepted the blush spreading over his cheeks as his only response, but then Mikleo laughed, and Sorey’s earrings clinked as he snapped around with an irritated groan. 

Before Sorey could say a word, a gold accented green ruler was being offered to him.

“I’m not an artist, but I’ve grown used to carrying the oddest things around for people.” Mikleo explain as he released the ruler into Sorey’s grasp. 

Sorey knew he would zone out if he let himself focus solely on sketching, so he started rambling his thought process. He glanced up occasionally to make sure he hadn’t lost Mikleo, who held his chin the entire time. Violet eyes followed each line Sorey made; every so often his head would lift for a question or comment, but he mostly remained silent.

Sorey had lost track of time when he sat back, pencil rolling across the table. Spanning numerous pages were drawings small and large of coffin after coffin from every angle, and all sorts of design possibilities. Mikleo spent some minutes examining each one, picking and pulling what he liked from each one, ultimately ending in Sorey offering to spend a day or two creating more detailed sketches and pulling everything together.

With that conversation at a close, they slid out of their seats, Mikleo re-shelving the books he’d taken, before they exited the building. Passing through the doorway, Sorey turned towards Mikleo.

“I was gonna get lunch at Mason’s, if you want to join.” Sorey’s nervousness showed.

“Ah, sorry. I’ve got plans with my sister.”

“Nothing to apologize for. But um… if you wanted to swing by the shop for progress updates.” Sorey rubbed his neck.

“I’ll think about it.” Mikleo said coldly as he retrieved his phone and fingers danced over the keyboard. Sorey shrank back, feeling he’d crossed a boundary. The only words left between them was a single question of if Sorey needed anything else for the project. He shook his head and received a stiff ‘goodbye’ before Mikleo took his leave.

Sorey sighed before heading back down the hill, checking his messages from Alisha that she’d closed up the shop and gone out to lunch. Part of him wanted to keep rambling about historical ages and everything that went with them, while his artist side itched to carve a relief of nothing but Temperance of Avarost designs.

Throughout the whole walk back to his shop, Sorey’s hands stayed behind his head as he contemplated what designs he wanted to work with for the coffin. He’d have to dig out his book on the Lefay shrine. Or maybe he’d do an entire portrait of that shrine before ever touching the coffin. He tussled his hair; he had too many ideas and he couldn’t pick even two or three.

Loud groaning vibrating against his closed lips, he unlocked the shop and pushed through with his shoulder. Crossing the sunlit room, he passed into the back room after tossing his bag under the desk. Flipping a couple switches brought soft light to the entire shop.

The backroom hadn’t been given near the care of the front. Originally, it was nothing more than storage. Sorey had gone through the trouble of tearing up carpeted floors in favor of tile. Though he’d never done anything about the stark white walls, over time he had covered them with various history posters and his own art inspirations. He’d gotten a large cube table that sat centered and acted as his main work area. Dotted around the room were various bits of wood, paint, and unorthodox carving tools. A back closet kept his table top lathe until he needed it.

He shuffled over to the cabinets that he’d installed himself specifically for food and drink storage. The amount of times he’d spent an entire night in this room were uncountable. Despite his large tea stash, nothing jumped out, so he blindly grabbed. Taking the tea pot from the sink below, he filled it and then set it on a heat element that most certainly wasn’t made for boiling water, but it worked just as well.

While he waited, he moved to a stack of books sitting on a corner of the table. None of them the one he wanted, but he pulled out one on the Age of Darkness and the Age of Calamity. Crude, rough, scratchy designs sprang up from those eras, yet they oddly mixed with the smooth and flowy designs of the Temperance of Avarost.

Allowing himself just a few loose sketches was enough for the water to boil. His mind still buzzed with the things he’d come up with; papers with notes and doodles and everything that was the visual of his creative process sprawled across the table.

“Sorey?” A voice said. He hadn’t heard the bells.

“Back here.” He hollered before making a mental note to check the bells later.

“I shouldn’t be surprised— oh what’s this?” Alisha paused as her eyes traveled around the table.

“Huh? What is it?” Sorey cocked his head as he poured a second glass before burying himself back in his work. 

“Mmmh, quite the sudden dive into Temperance of Avarost? What happened to the Era of Asgard?”.

“You know I jump around.”

“Surely this wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain man would it?” Sorey instantly went as red as his tea kettle.

“W-what are you getting at?” He scratched his jaw, jinging an earring. Only now had Sorey directly met her gaze.

“Hmmm, only that Rose may be correct about you having a crush.” She held a trembling finger to her lip, faint red eyes turned upwards as she spoke, 

“Gah, c’mon! I know you two got together after what? A week? It takes more than that for me.” 

She laughed weakly, the sound ringing wrongly in Sorey’s ears. 

“As they say, ‘one can’t control matters of the heart.’” Her voice dipped. Too low. She pulled a chair over to sit next to him, taking the cup he’d set for her. Everything was wrong, and Sorey had finally stopped debating whether he’d pretend not to see it. 

“What’s wrong?” Her head snapped away, silence ringing. 

“I wanted Rose to be here, but… I received some news…” She couldn’t look anywhere near Sorey.

“Alisha, what happened?” Sorey steeled himself, bracing for any and everything.

“Boris… he…” she shuddered, “he’s gone Sorey…” He nearly fell off his stool. Goosebumps raised across every inch of him, chest beginning to heave. Finally Alisha meet his headlight gaze, and seeing how much effort she was using to hold herself together, Sorey slid off his chair and wrapped his arms around her. Instantly she clung to him, tears bursting as she sobbed into his chest.

They knew any day could be this one, yet neither could have prepared for it. Military duty came with tragedy looming within every second. Still holding Alisha, Sorey managed to pull his phone out and call Rose, who could do a much better job of calming Alisha down than he could. Rose had never met either Strelka brother; both having joined the military straight out of high school. For Sorey and Alisha though, Sergei and Boris had been their best friends since elementary.

Alisha hadn’t been able to say anything to Rose, who started freaking out the moment she heard sniffles. Sorey took to stroking her hair as he mustered up the strength to speak. His words broke too many times to count, but he strung together enough fragments to communicate that he wanted her to come to them when she could. Not even five minutes after their call ended, she was there.

Rose had pulled up another stool beside Alisha, and in a matter of minutes, had Alisha haphazardly laying across her and Sorey’s laps. Keeping her arms securely locked around Alisha, Rose turned up to Sorey.

“How’re you holding up?”

“It hurts… but I’ll manage. It’s her I’m worried about.” Sorey gazed at the sleep talking Alisha.

“Yeah. I hope I can actually help her through this.” Rose’s grip on Alisha’s shoulder tightened.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever seen her sleep on.” 

She smiled, melancholy in her eyes as she twirled blonde hair. Rose spent a few moments staring down an Alisha, tucking loose strands behind her ear.

“We should probably get her home.” Sorey suggested. Rose nodded before gently shaking Alisha’s shoulder. Through her sleepy stupor, she’d forgotten what had happened, and hyperfocused on why she’d fallen asleep in Aroundight Woods. Sorey convinced her to not worry about that and they headed home, Sorey leaving all but his keys and phone there.

Half way home, Alisha trembled, a hand coming over her mouth. She’d woken up enough to remember, and everything hit her again. Sorey took her free hand and gave her every assurance he could think of. It took Sorey holding her hand, and Rose her shoulders to get her home, but once they did, she collapsed into bed, coiling around Rose like a snake. Sorey left with a small smile before retreating to his own room.

There, he checked his phone for the first time in hours to see a message from Sergei asking if they could talk. Sorey agreed to the phone call, and did his best to stuff everything down as he heard the details, and heard how broken Sergei was, yet putting on that practiced facade. Though Sorey was certain his squeaks and sniffles broke his own facade. 

Routine border patrol, something as common and everyday as eating for them, yet this one day, Boris’ squad found mines strategically placed to create a landslide that buried every one of them. 

Sorey remained on the phone well into the night, until he hadn’t a shred of doubt that Sergei was okay. Once Sorey’s head hit the pillow, he was out, not realizing just how exhausted his body had become. 

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lords I wish I could get these chapters out like I had planned, but life, y'know?
> 
> Anyway, hopefully you all enjoy despite the short length.

A large yawn erupted from Sorey as he leaned back, tools rolling across the table. Getting himself to work these last few weeks had been no easy task, but he had far too many projects. Or so he told himself. In reality, he had personal projects, small commissions, and one large project. Nothing that compared to his usual list that could roll all the way to Ladylake.

His gaze fell back to the scraps of Rosewood sitting before him, many splintered or cracked from being carved too deep. As if the intricate patterns weren’t difficult enough, he had forgotten the challenges that came from this wood type by itself. He pulled over another block, took a deep breath, and drew his lines for the fifth time. Of all things he could be working on, he’d chosen the coffin. He tried to convince himself it was just another project. He was only doing the prep work, getting a feel for carving these designs before he dared touch his larger cuts. But he couldn’t get the concept of death out of his mind.

Only a month had passed since Boris’ death. Outwardly at least, Alisha seemed to have coped with it, though what happened behind closed doors he could only guess. Sorey couldn’t let himself think about it for too long, or he got like this; arms across the table, face buried in them biting back tears. He knew some would say he was lucky to have lived this long without losing anyone dear to him, but here he sat with no clue of how to cope with this.

While he and Boris had drifted since high school, Sorey still cared deeply and cherished any time they did reconnect. But the thought that he’d never get to see Boris again weighed him down. He shifted and slid out of his seat, ignoring the twist in his stomach from looking at all his failed tests, and slinked into the front room, where he found blond hair sprawled across the desk.

He couldn’t fight the weak smile that crawled over his lips as he gently shook Alisha’s shoulder. She stirred against the desk before rising, and rubbed at one eye while she glanced through her half opened other at Sorey.

Convincing her to go home was a battle won before it even started. He gathered her stuff, slung it and his stuff over a shoulder, and held her arm as they made their way into the chilly night breeze.

Only a few steps outside the shop, Sorey stopped abruptly.

"Oh, guess I'm late," Mikleo muttered, clutching an elbow.

"Sorry. We did kinda close up early. What did you need?" Sorey glanced to Alisha, ensuring stopping like this was okay. Her droopy eyes told him to make it quick.

"I... um... You're the only person I know that's fluent in the ancient tongue. I need some help translating something." His head fell to the side, hair falling in a way that would conceal his blush if it were longer.

"Do you have the text on hand?" Sorey asked. Mikleo nodded and Sorey's face lit up.

"Then if you don’t mind coming to our—" his gaze shot to Alisha, a silent question. She nodded weakly.

"I wouldn’t want to intrude…"

"It's okay… just Sorey and I." Alisha yawned. Mikleo nodded and relaxed his body.

Sorey stammered through an introduction, when they started walking. Alisha, in her sleepy delirium, hadn’t realized who this was. Sorey kept a light hold on her hand, keeping her on a straight path. All the while, he’d started discussion over the over the particular book Mikleo was trudging through - one of the oldest collections of stories about seraphim. Sorey had his own copy, but he’d never managed to get more than half way through.

By the time the group reached their location, Sorey was a hair away from scooping Alisha off her feet. He struggled to retrieve his keys, and barely managed to unlock the door before Alisha slumped against him. Sorey gently picked her up and pushed inside. Sorey gave the invitation for Mikleo to sit wherever he liked, while he got Alisha into bed.

Returning, Sorey letting out a huff and stretched his arms over his head before he turned to Mikleo, who had taken a seat on the couch, book set on the coffee table. He smiled, small yet so radiant Sorey could have been staring at the sun. He did bump into the wall on his way to the kitchen to make the tea he’d offered.

Taking deep breaths, Sorey reminded himself that there was no reason to get flustered. They were merely acquaintances with shared interests. Although, this was the first time they’d even spoken outside the shop for non-work related subjects.

Sorey patted his cheeks before grabbing two glasses and the kettle, and sitting down a few feet from Mikleo.

“Alright, so where in the book are you?” Mikleo flipped to a page marked by a teal and gold fabric bookmark. His brows pulled together as he stared at the text. He sighed before digging into his bag. Out came a white case guarding blue framed glasses, which he fluidly slid to top of his nose.

“This part here. I can at least make sense of the preceding paragraphs, but from this line on it sounds like utter gibberish,” Mikleo lamented. An index finger marked the particular line as he handed the book to Sorey, who hummed as he skimmed the page.

“Wow, you’re at the same point I’ve been stuck at,” Sorey commented as he brought a hand to his chin.

“I’ve read this line seven different ways but nothing makes sense.” Mikleo huffed, arms crossing.

“Y’know, I initially read it as talking about a water filled night, but looking at it now…” he trailed off in a contemplative hum. Suddenly, he held the book facing towards Mikleo, a finger under a single word.

“What if you read this as ‘frigid’ instead of ‘moon’?” There was doubt in his tone. Mikleo held his chin as he read the line once more.

“Ah! A lot more things make sense! Especially this part about an ‘aqua serpent.’” In his excitement, Mikleo scooted closer to Sorey. For the remainder of the page, they bounced translations back and forth. Progressing through the next few chapters came with them sometimes speaking in nothing but ancient tongue as they debated sections.

At one chapter their stances differed so much that Sorey decided to bring out extra books to prove his point. Except he ended up proving Mikleo’s point. Too stubborn to admit he was wrong, Sorey went for a diversion by asking if Mikleo wanted more tea.

Sorey zipped into the kitchen, tussling his own hair as he waited for the water to boil. His frustrations came out in a huff and with that his mind with blank. If he focused, he could hear Mikleo muttering to himself. Sorey failed to notice his lips tugging upwards as his movements with the glasses and kettle were unusually slow. He took baby steps towards the living room, now putting all his attention on the incoherent, mixed language, mumbles. Those all ceased the moment Sorey stepped through the doorway.

He set both cups on the table before sitting back on the couch, although closer to Mikleo then he had been when he got up. As they dived back into the passages, some became hard to read from a distance. Mikleo slowly inched closer and closer until their knees brushed. Neither noticed that or how their hands were nearly on top of each other.

At one particularly difficult to read section, Sorey craned his neck sideways, stretching and popping, and noticed faint gold rays slipping through the curtains. Turning back to Mikleo he gave a small apologetic smile.

“I shouldn’t have kept you so late. Or should I say early?” To Mikleo’s questioning hum, Sorey pointed at the window. Mikleo shrieked lowly.

“I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome! I can’t believe no one messaged me,” Mikleo squeaked as he looked at his phone. His phone that wouldn’t light up. A muttered curse slipped his lips, and before he could say anything, Sorey was holding out his phone.

“Let them know it was my fault.” Sorey smiled as Mikleo started dialing.

Sorey sat silently, even as a roaring voice came from the receiver. He focused on anything other than the conversation. His eyes fell to the dismal space between them, and heat roared through his cheeks. Their knees still touched, and Sorey could see the impressions from where their hands had been.

Suddenly, Sorey’s phone was being returned, and he blinked a few times before taking it and meeting Mikleo’s eyes.

“I-if you want… you’re welcome to stay here… with how late it is…” He rubbed his head as he spoke.

“I couldn’t possibly trouble you anymore! Besides, I’m not very far from here,” Mikleo stammered lightly.

“At least let me walk you?”

“It’s fine. Really. The sun’s rising.” Mikleo’s faint blush was hidden behind his hand. He gave a small nod and a farewell before letting himself out.

Sorey stared at the door for a few moments before turning around and crossing with slow heavy steps towards his room. After lazily tossing off his shirt and pants, he climbed under a single light blanket and grabbed his phone. The clock read 5:44, yet he still opened his messaging app and sent a message off to someone he knew would still be up.

_What the hell? Oh I’m definitely going to be at the shop early so you better be there on time._

* * *

 

Sorey’s first mistake: staying up until sunrise. Sorey’s second mistake: convincing himself he could take only a ten minute nap. Sorey’s third, and fatal mistake: not being at the shop before Rose. She stood against the door, arms crossed and a smirk on her lips. He slid to a stop less than a foot from her. Hunched over catching his breath, he dared not look up at her.

“I’ve been waiting a whole ten minutes. You know the rules,” she commented as she pushed off the frame “Gotta answer everything until I’m satisfied.” He grumbled before digging out his keys and unlocking the door. Skipping right up to the desk, she grabbed the chair and spun it around to sit in it backwards. Her arms over the top, she snapped impatiently at him.

“Would you give me a minute to at least set up shop?” He fumed as he flipped on the lights and scooted her over in order to set up his laptop.

“Not when you had some guy you just met in your house until sunrise.”

“He left before that!” Sorey spoke louder than he’d meant.

“Yeah yeah. Now, this is the guy you were telling us about, before right? The coffin guy?” Sorey hesitated, but eventually recounted everything from the previous day. She stayed surprisingly quiet, minus her laughing at them both for being fluent in a dead language. Sorey felt himself getting slightly flustered as he reached the end of his story. She hummed for a long, unnerving while before smiling at Sorey.

“Sounds like you got a keeper there.”

“Rose, I just met him. Why do you always assume I’ll jump so quick?”

“I’ll bet 1000 Gald on you two getting together soon.” Sorey scoffed. How could she make bets already? Instead of acknowledging her bet, he slinked off to the back room where he had a piece in particular calling his name. Sliding his wood burning kit and a round cut of wood that barely had more than pencil marks off the shelf, he debated for a moment where he felt like working before settling into his usual spot at the back of the room.

Hours passed with Sorey running his pen in circles, slowly blackening the background behind a lanky dragon whose body swerved in and out of the frame. Focusing on each movement was the only way to keep Mikleo out of his mind. Despite the teasing Rose would unleash, Sorey wanted to see him again. Knowing more of what he was into, Sorey had even more things he wanted to share.

He set his pen down and stretched, glancing at the clock. He sighed as he set things aside, a much needed break in order. Shuffling back into the main room, he was just in time for the chime of bells. Before he or Rose could launch into the welcome spiel, his name was being hollered. Energy rushing through him, Sorey raced to meet the other halfway.

“It’s great to see you,” Sorey said. Sergei quirked an eyebrow at Sorey’s hanging head before encircling his waist and lifting him at least three inches. Sorey squeaked, and scrambled against the bear hug, panting when he finally touched ground again.

“Frowns don’t suit you at all.” Sergei smirked.

“Well well, if it isn’t Major General Strelka himself.” Rose crossed her arms as she approached.

“Please. No need for formalities.” Sergei chuckled as he faced her. True, this was their first time meeting, but they’d heard plenty about each other.

“So when did you get back?” Sorey asked.

“Today. I have roughly a month here.”

“Hey, that means you’ll be here for the festival!”

“Festi— Ah crap!” Sorey shrieked as he crumpled, hands clutching his hair. Rose and Sergei’s laughter mixed.

The summer festival. The one event most responsible for building Sorey’s reputation as a woodworker. What he’d spend his school months planning for and working like mad toward once summer break began. And his first year post graduation and he’d forgotten.

Sorey began muttering to himself about everything he’d needed to do, eyes stuck to one single spot on the floor as he clutched his chin. Rose tried three different times to get his attention before Sergei waved her aside, and took a single step toward Sorey, who instantly jumped back before shooting up to met his grin.

“Still got the instincts I see.”

“Hey, it’s all your fault.” Sorey huffed, turning his nose up. Rose looked quizzically between them, and in the moment that Sorey closed his eyes with a sigh, Sergei had fingers dancing over Sorey’s ribs. Instantly, Sorey went breathless, begging and pleading for Sergei to stop. By the time Sergei did, Sorey’s knees had buckled, and he sat on the ground, guarding his sides.

“Oh lords! Sorey you’re ticklish? How did I not know?”

His shimmering eyes looked up, a whimper slipping between his pouting lips and his arms coiled tighter. Rose laughed a while longer before forcing herself silent. Sorey glared, and ensured she wouldn’t take advantage of the next opening before he rose to his feet and shuffled away from her. Sergei chuckled before turning to face Sorey.

“Assuming you’ve no prior plans, can I treat you all to dinner tonight?” Sergei spoke level toned, eyes sticking to Sorey.

“I’ve got nothing,” Sorey responded.

“I’m always down for free food. Alisha should be free too, and,” Rose took a quick step towards Sorey to lightly jab her elbow in his side, “you can invite the future boyfriend.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s not like that?” He slumped.

“Yet.” She grinned.

“Sorey, you actually have a suitor?” Sergei quirked an eyebrow, his excitement visibly being held back.

“He’s just a customer—”

“Who is just as much a nerd as he is,” Rose interjected. Sorey continued to fight with her over how they were just acquaintances with shared interests, and how once the commission was done they’d never talk again. Sorey was beaten with she brought up Lailah, and suggested Mikleo could become a repeat customer. Sorey’s heart fluttered at that thought. He’d love to create more pieces for Mikleo, but his gut still told him he shouldn’t allow this to be anything unprofessional.

Shaking the thoughts off, he focused on ironing out their dinner plans, time and location, and he ended up being the one to contact Alisha after Rose received a business call. With that all settled, Sorey looked over his list of projects and the calendar with the summer festival now marked.

The day would pass with him working on small things, such as preparing base pendants for Lailah, a few toys for other customers, and furthering his plans for the coffin. He scratched a note for himself that he still needed to pick up the full wood cuts.

Before he knew it, Alisha was at the door, dressed in a pastel pink, knee length shimmering dress. She’d brought with her Sorey’s ‘casual formal clothes’, as he liked to call them. A blue high collared button up thrown over his usual black v-neck and nicer brown slacks.

Sorey instantly felt under dressed once they’d reached Blessed Domain. Rose had a dress almost identical to Alisha’s, except for being maroon, and Sergei had come in a gray suit with a red tie.

They were seated at a back corner booth. Rose hesitated none in ordering alcohol immediately. Even though Sorey usually only drank in these situations, he settled for water tonight.

Hours passed unnoticed between the idle chit chat, catching up, and Rose getting new embarrassing stories about her girlfriend from Sergei. Meanwhile, Alisha looked ready to crawl underneath the table. Always, one to even things out, Sergei revealed a number of stories about Sorey, which he would prefer to have been lost for all time.

Sorey grumbled as he took a large gulp of his water; pleas for his embarrassment to end falling flat for a few more minutes before conversation died.

“Oh right, Sorey, if I recall correctly, there’s a public lecture coming up in a couple weeks at the college about the ancient tongue.” Alisha held a hand against her cheek.

“Seriously? We have to go!” Sorey beamed. Alisha swore his earrings had started fluttering.

“I’m afraid Rose and I will be preoccupied with a business meeting.” She motioned between her and Rose. Sorey turned to Sergei, who sullenly shook his head.

“I have far too many people to meet up with. Plus, I can’t say I’ve grown any interest in the language.” Sorey groaned, head falling into his palm. He didn’t enjoy going to social events alone, but this may be an exception.

“Y’know—”

“No.”

“C’mon, asking ain’t going to kill you.”

“It’s completely unprofessional.”

“Quit being so stuffy. You like the guy right? So just extend the olive branch. Not like he has to take it.” Her second statement had stunned Sorey so much so his arm slipped and his head banged against the table. He let out a too loud groan as he rubbed his stinging forehead. He had wanted to glare at her, but her grin lead to him blushing.

“Not want I meant when I said you liked him, but that answers another question.” Sorey thought about arguing, but that gleam in her eyes told him the war had already been lost. With three sets of eyes staring him down, he sighed.

Doing this mostly to please them, Sorey pulled out his phone and started typing in a blank message. Then he erased everything and rewrote it. Rewrote it again. And again. And again. And seven more times before Rose snatched the phone, typed out the message once, and sent it.

“Rose! I wasn’t actually going to send it!” Sorey shot up, face hotter than a supernova.

“One doesn’t rewrite something ten times that they don’t intend to send,” Sergei said. Sorey stuffed his phone into his pocket, glaring at Rose, but having nothing to say. Sorey thanked the lords once their food came; it gave him a respite from the teasing as conversation turned to anything and everything.

Amidst all the talk, Sorey had actually forgotten about the text, mainly because the subject never resurfaced. Until he’d gotten home and checked for business mail.

_I’d love to, but I won’t know if I can make it until a few days prior._

Sorey squeaked, both at the shock that ‘he’ had asked, but even worse than Mikleo had agreed. Unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, he didn’t noticed Rose coming up behind him, nor leaning up to read over his shoulder.

“Nice, got that hot date,” Rose cheered. Sorey spun around lightning fast.

“It’s not a date.” His voice broke as his face went blazing.

“Uh huh. And you’re a great liar. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the shop.”

He glared at her before turning away. He didn’t think of it as a date. _But if Mikleo does…_ He was getting ahead of himself. This was nothing more than two people attending a lecture together. Nothing romantic about it.

So then why wouldn’t his heart stop pounding?

Infatuation. That was it. Sorey had never had anything more than platonic interest in anyone. He doubted if he could feel what Alisha had described feeling towards Rose when they first started talking. That constant heart thumping while you thought about them all day and eagerly awaited the next time you’d see them. Not even caring if things went beyond friendship, just wanting to spend time with that person, to get to know them better.

Mikleo shared his interests in a way no one else had. Sorey was just excited to have an equal in his passions.

Sorey would repeat that all the way until Mikleo was standing in front of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had wanted to make this a longer chapter to make up for how long it's been since an update, but yeah.... instead I should have the next chapter out within a couple weeks instead of a month.

Elysia University was small, the majority of its student body being local residents. Though the Ladylake populace were truly what kept the school afloat.

Sorey bounced through the campus grounds as if he’d never left. Although this was his first summer post graduation, so everything still felt like home. He stopped at a flower bed set in the center of campus. How many hours he’d spent sketching and working near this group of anemones he couldn’t even guess. While these flowers had once been merely a pretty and calming sight, seeing their color now reminded Sorey of vibrant matching eyes belonging to the person he was here to meet.

Even though Sorey should have been keeping an eye out for said company, he pulled out his small sketch book to do a few quick doodles of the flowers. All too quickly, he was caught up in drawing them from every angle. Doubtful he’d ever need this many angle references, but uncertain that he  _ wouldn’t  _ need them.

“Sorey?” The voice cut through his focus, and his hand twitched, drawing a line across the page. Sorey whined before closing his book and turning to Mikleo.

“Sorry… I didn’t expect to startle you.”

“It’s fine. I’m the one who got too focused.” He dropped his sketch book into his bag before starting towards the history building.

“I had some trouble finding the details on this. Who’s presenting?” Mikleo asked as he settled into Sorey’s pace.

“Magillanica Lou Mayvin. She retired my first or second year so I never got to attend any of her lectures, but I heard she never disappoints.”

“Mayvin? Wait, you can’t mean The Storyteller?” Mikleo stumbled over his own feet.

“Yeah, that Mayvin.” Sorey spoke calm as ever, while Mikleo was practically sputtering.

“How did I not know she taught here?”

“She was pretty busy. If she wasn’t teaching she was traveling.” Sorey’s response came along with him opening the door to the history building and waving Mikleo through first. Mikleo paused inside the hall, taking in all the posters and historical decorations. Sorey cocked his head.

“Never been here before?”

“I, uh, haven’t gone to college. It’s too expensive.” Mikleo responded, and Sorey could hear the stress going into choosing his words. As if he were finding the most vague way to answer.

“Couldn’t get any scholarships?”

“Apparently not.” Mikleo turned to away from Sorey as they passed a board full of fliers advertising this lecture. 

Sorey’s arms crossed. “You’re seriously smart. I can’t believe you couldn’t get any.” 

Mikleo coughed into a hand. Sorey looked over when that single cough turned into a series. He procured a water bottle from his bag after seeing tears in Mikleo’s eyes as he continued coughing. Mikleo took the bottle wordlessly, but with a slight nod. Sorey knew watching Mikleo gulp down the water was not the time for his cheeks to be heating up. He also knew his attention shouldn’t have been on Mikleo’s Adam’s Apple.

“Sorey?” Had he squeaked at the call of his name? He hoped it had been internal. Although Mikleo’s raised eyebrow lead him to believe otherwise.

“You feeling better now?” Sorey asked.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Sorey gave a soft smile as he returned the bottle to his bag before they stepped into the already packed auditorium.

Scanning the room for open seats, Sorey found the only open pair in the very last row. Sorey set his laptop out, pulling up his word processor a moment before the lights dimmed. Along with a handful of others, he quickly dimmed his screen. Casting a brief glance at Mikleo, Sorey found violet eyes that could shimmer like sunsets even in the dark. He followed Mikleo’s gaze to the illuminated but empty stage.

_ He’s just a client. This is just… a business venture. That’s all. _ Sorey shook his head, trying to believe his own words. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to think long before a blond haired women skipped onto the stage. She wore a corset-like top, half pink and half purple with four diamonds in total, arm sleeves that were part pink part purple but in opposite ways, a brown and gold skirt — were those  _ books? —  _ one purple and one pink legging, and a layered hat of the same two colors.

All together, Sorey felt like he was looking at a jester from a historical reenactment. He barely caught Mikleo’s sideways ‘ _ is this for real’  _ look. No one else in the room seemed phased, but Sorey couldn’t tear his eyes off this girl who bounced around the stage, a hand against her eyebrows as she peered out over the crowd.

“Wowie we got a crowd tonight.” She whistled as she stood back and bounded towards a red haired woman dressed modestly in white and gold. Sorey recognized that uniform; Abby Academy. Located an ocean away, but at the forefront of Ancient Avarost studies.

“Alright, it’s time. Shut those doors.” The blond sang out, and only after the last door clicked did she continue.

“With how you guys have been hyping up your one and only chance to meet me, I’ll assume you all know this adorable face,” she stopped to squish her own cheeks between her hands “But in case ya need it, Magillanica Lou Mayvin, Magilou for short, in your presence. Anyway, since this isn’t Ancient Avarost 101, let’s drop the common tongue, shall we?” Sorey had been in the midst of turning to whisper a question to Mikleo, when Magilou began speaking in perfectly relaxed ancient tongue. Sorey’s entire attention turned to watching her hand and body gestures while his fingers clacked away at his keys.

Sorey was silently thankful for his ability to type without looking at his keys; everything she said had meaning hidden in how she moved as she spoke. The way her hands would illustrate points not so clear in words alone. In his peripheral, he caught Mikleo never once looking away from the stage. 

Magilou spent the hour explaining the history of Ancient Avarost and how it’s subtle nuances changed over the years, yet the language still remained easy to understand once you knew how it came to be. Sorey was in constant struggle between simply listening to how she spoke and actually taking notes. 

She had been the only one to speak the until the end, when her assistant, Eleanor, prompted the audience for participants for a survey. Magilou quickly interjected that there would be rewards for a lucky few. Eleanor passed through the rows, handing papers to each raised a hand. Mikleo hadn’t been keen on it, but Sorey had already taken sheets for both of them.

Sheets which were written 100% in ancient tongue. And the answers needed to be in all ancient tongue. As Mikleo was about to give in, Magilou announced that this wasn’t a test and that pairing up was valid. In that moment, Sorey turned to Mikleo. Their eyes met for a few silent moments before Sorey slid the paper between them and Mikleo started reading aloud questions and answers that Sorey transcribed.

They were the first to turn in their sheet. Standing in front of Magilou was surreal. They knew her in name but to see her, have her -strangeness aside- in arms reach, Sorey was sure he could faint. She hummed as she looked over their answers and then the two of them.

“Gotta say, this is one of the most accurate ones I’ve seen. Even using colloquial stuff that I didn’t even mention. So who did what?” She finished with hands on her hips.

“I just wrote everything.” Sorey responded with a light blush and a hand against his neck.

“Kid, you wrote in a format that even dedicated scholars struggle with. And you,” she flapped the paper towards Mikleo “your phrasing is a little awkward in some parts, but that’s just word choice.” Without another word, she spun around and ducked behind a door. Sorey and Mikleo exchanged confused looks but before either could so much as think, she returned brandishing two books.

“I’ve been saving these for kids like you.” She said as she handed each of them a copy. It had a green hardcover with   _ Scrolls of Time: A Storyteller Speaks  _ in gold leafing _.  _ Sorey couldn’t feel his fingers even as they scuttled over the book’s spine. His arms dipped when Magilou released the book, which was heavier than he anticipated. She smiled at them both, held a finger to her forehead and requested reviews after they’d finished the books. Both nodded eagerly before heading out the doors, long behind the rest of the crowd.

Sorey turned the book over in his hands, heart beating a thousand times a second as he read the title once again. In his hands was a book not even officially released, yet already being herald as a masterpiece. When he looked over, Mikleo was already nose deep in the pages. He admired how Mikleo could walk, talk, and read all at once without ever looking up from the book. As eager as Sorey was to start reading himself, his stomach choose that moment to make it’s desires known. Only then did Mikleo raise an eye towards Sorey, and before he could say a word, his stomach decided to be noisy as well.

“I guess we should get dinner. Um, mind holding this for me?” A light blush dusted Sorey’s cheeks even as he held his book towards Mikleo. Mikleo nodded, closing his book and setting it in his bag before taking Sorey’s and stacking it careful against the other copy.

“Where to?” Mikleo asked. Sorey held a hand to his chin. They’d started aimlessly walking, Sorey remembering all the nearby places. There was one that came to mind that Rose had recommended, but he’d never found the time to go.  

“Is there anything you’re against? Any allergies?” Sorey asked as he started walking.

“I’m not partial to spicy foods. No allergies.” Sorey hummed with the response.  

Sorey perked up when Mikleo said that he hadn’t been to Cambria Tavern. Rose had said it’s best seller was the bat stew; and odd dish for sure, but reputation told it was a unique flavor you wouldn’t find elsewhere. Mikleo was hesitant about trying bat, but Sorey could see the subdued curiosity brimming in those violet eyes. That subtle curve of his brows coming together, the hand against his chin, the way the afternoon sunlight highlighted the colored tips of his hair. To simply call it something out of a painting didn’t explain the way Sorey’s breath vanished.

“Uh, Sorey?” Mikleo abruptly stopping his sentence snapped Sorey out of his blatant staring at Mikleo’s eyes. Sorey swallowed a squeak as he turned his head away.

“Sorry, just a little spacey lately. Haven’t been sleeping well,” Sorey stammered.

“Okay, but that doesn’t answer the question about the scripture in the beginning of that book we got.” 

Sorey felt his heart hammer his stomach. He scrambled for a response, any response, but he couldn’t even remember the text in the slightest.

“I haven’t even read it yet.” Had he? He couldn’t remember even opening the book, but he couldn’t remember not doing it either. He let out a large sigh when Cambria Tavern came into view, giving him an easy subject change by coaxing Mikleo into guessing what time period inspired the building. Sorey held a hand over his chest as Mikleo turned to examine the restaurant. Focused on his footsteps, Sorey kept them moving and managed to hold an actual conversation despite his still overcharged nerves.

Even as they stepped inside, which was decorated in dark wood accented with purples and blues, Sorey’s pulse never stopped racing. Once seated, he pushed all those thoughts out of his head. He was here with an acquaintance. Rose wasn’t going to get any more fuel for her baseless teasing.

 

“It’s oddly dark, but charming.” Mikleo said as he stirred the ice around in his glass of water.

“Reminds me of a cavern mom took me to years ago.” Sorey added as he sipped his own drink.

“I can’t imagine what that’s like.” Mikleo’s eyes feel down briefly.

“It’s an experience. There’s one just on the outskirts of the forest that’s pretty great.” Mikleo went silent as he studied the menu. Sorey thought nothing of it, picking up his own menu and seeing if anything else tempted him more than the bat stew. Nothing did, and Sorey had gotten Mikleo’s curiosity peaked. 

They hadn’t ordered anything more than the two bowls of bat stew, yet forty minutes later, they still waited. There hadn’t been sight or sound of their waitress either. To distract from the less than stellar service, they’d ended up with a book on the table, reading together. Sorey declined taking his copy, stating that if they read together, he wouldn’t be able to skip too far ahead of Mikleo.

At one point, Mikleo glanced up, eyes lingering a little too long. When Sorey met his gaze, his eyes shot back down, but landed on the opposite page from the one they’d been reading.

“Everything okay?” Sorey asked.

“I, uh, just thought that it must be hard reading upside down.” Faint red coated Mikleo’s cheeks. 

“Mm, not really. I’m used it. When it’s common tongue anyway… Ancient is admittedly a bit more challenging.” At that response, Mikleo motioned to the chair beside him. Sorey took a moment to glance around for their waitress— at this point any staff— before relocating himself. He shifted closer to Mikleo without thinking, but a quick sideways glance at violet eyes already buried into the text again eased Sorey’s worries.

By the time their waitress came, almost an hour later, Sorey was a hair away from leaning on Mikleo’s shoulder. He hadn’t noticed until she approached, and couldn’t have scooted away any faster.

“Sorry. There was an issue in the kitchen.” She spoke monotone, though with a dash of annoyance. The bowls were set down with no amount of grace. Both boys smiled and started to thank her, but she walked away before they’d even finished speaking. 

“Man, talk about some soul sucking service.” Sorey whispered even though no one was around. 

“Here’s hoping the food is better.” Mikleo replied as he marked their page and carefully tucked the book back into his bag. 

They both held up a spoonful of the oddly green stew, nodded at each other and then tasted together. The flavor was certainly unique, not bad but not good either. In an attempt to ignore the taste, Mikleo started a discussion about the prologue of Magilou’s book they’d blazed through. At one point, Sorey made a joke that had Mikleo nearly spray bat stew onto him.

Once their bowls were empty, their conversation rolled around to the lecture. Mikleo had started talking about how glad he was for being able to go. Although he blushed furiously as he admitted that the acceptance text Sorey had gotten had actually come from Mikleo’s sister, Edna. Sorey couldn’t help but laugh at how that rivaled his own situation. He got a small chuckle from Mikleo after explaining his own text.

Surprisingly, not much time passed before their waitress returned with the bill. Sorey didn’t even give Mikleo a chance to think about paying. After leaving a more gracious tip than deserved, they made their way into the chilly night.

Almost instantly, Mikleo shivered. Rather largely. Sorey hadn’t said a word before he’d started to unbutton his outer shirt. Mikleo had been busy warming himself through friction, when the shirt fell over his shoulders. His head shot to Sorey, who hoped his blush couldn’t be seen in the low light. Mikleo looked stunned for a moment, and then his face went blank too quickly. His trembling was far more than that of the cold.

And then Mikleo was coughing and swaying. He pulled out his phone in a blur before he spoke,

“I’m sorry, but I need to go.” His fingers danced rapidly over the screen, and before Sorey could think, Mikleo was racing away. Sorey almost shouted, but the sounds caught in his throat. He swallowed painfully, watching Mikleo’s wobbly steps until he’d rounded behind a building. He wanted to make sure Mikleo was safe, but he had been texting. Sorey assumed that had been him contacting his ride, thus Sorey spun on his heels and shuffled towards home. Between his steps he found his phone and opened his most recent chat.

 

_ Rose, I think I screwed up. _

_ Flubbed the first date huh? _

_ Maybe? I don’t know. But he ran. _

_ Woah, he ran? Like, away from you? Get home, safely, I’ll be there with take out.  _

 

_ __________________________________ _

 

“Sheesh. That’s rough.” Rose sighed as she set her box of fried rice on the table.

“I know it wasn’t a date or anything but it still feels like I messed up.”

“Hey, it wasn’t you. He doesn’t sound like that bad of a guy. Maybe something sprang up real sudden. Y’know?” Rose went back to her food after a quick drink. Sorey’s head fell, appetite dwindling with each passing moment. He wanted to believe her, but with how things had played out, he couldn’t help feeling rejected. As if he’d overstepped by giving Mikleo his shirt.  

“So hey, what’cha got planned for the festival?” Rose asked as she shoveled more rice into her mouth. Sorey sighed, knowing this was only a distraction, but it was one he was willing to give into.

“The usual tops, pens, trinket boxes, rings.” She nodded along with each item.

“Yeah, and for the unusual?”

“Flower vases and hopefully I can finish this chair in time.” Here her head turned up. Sorey hadn’t tackled something that big outside a commission in years. Though Rose could understand him needing something different after years of the same things.

As the conversation went on, Rose got Sorey thoroughly hooked and talking with that glimmer of passion in his eyes that meant there was nothing else on his mind. She managed to keep him talking for hours before either of them mentioned going to bed.  

  
  


The next sunrise brought Sorey to the backroom of the shop, dragging out supplies and firing up the lathe to cover himself in what would be the dust of fifty tops. The beginning few came slowly, requiring intense focus on where to place his hands, how he angled his tools, and what shapes he wanted. After the first ten, he’d carved into his usual groove and went thoughtless as he turned and turned. Tops of all sorts of shapes and sizes filled a wooden bowl next to him.

With the last top and the last of that stack of wood, he brought the bowl with him to the floor to begin testing every single one. Separating them into functional and non-functional tops. Within the functional pile, comprised of thirty tops, he further separated them into ones that could spin upside down on their stick and ones that couldn’t. Those that could, would be sold for a slightly higher price.

As for the non functional pile, these he collected into another bowl that would sit at his table along with a smaller set of tools to later be cut and carved into necklace pendants. Those would be done another day though.

 

A few days later would see him with a pile of pendants, chain, ribbon, and charms scattered around. Only leaving the back room when he heard the bell chimes of customers. Once every last pendant had been strung, he’d started cutting bases for trinket boxes and vases. Boxes came together fast since he opted out of decorating them beyond varnishes. Finishing one last box, his mind wandered to Mikleo.

Sorey hadn’t heard a word from him since their admittedly bad dinner. Remembering that lecture, and those books—  _ the book _ . Sorey quickly dug out his phone and checked his messages; nothing from Mikleo. Maybe he hadn’t realized his bag still had Sorey’s copy of Magilou’s book. Though, how would he not have noticed after four days? Despite shaking hands, Sorey typed out a message and sent. Nothing too forward, nothing demand. Just simply asking if Mikleo had his copy.

As a means of keeping himself from constantly checking his phone, he started preparing things for his next project, a rocking chair. They were good sellers, but he hadn’t made one during his college time simply because they were too time consuming. At least the better chunk of the work was done; he’d already made the pieces in the weeks leading up to the lecture, now he needed to put everything together.

 

The remaining days passed slowly, all too slowly despite the buzz and chaos of festival preparations. Despite all the rush, Sorey still checked his phone every few hours, waiting for even a blank message from Mikleo.Sorey would spend a few hours on the chair while waiting for other projects to dry, and handle the occasional customer that came in. Though the majority of his visitors were seeking sneak peeks of what he’d be selling. Sorey had been told his prices were high, but no one ever let that stop them from buying.

 

With a couple days left, Alisha and Rose stopped by to drop off their scrap fabric that would otherwise be thrown out, and to store a small handful of yukata in his shop. And then on the day of the festival, they’d complain about the wood dust, same as every year. He spent a few moments rifling through the fabric; rarely did he use fabric in his own projects, but he had been contemplating making an optional cushion for the rocking chair.

After they left the shop, Sorey fell into the front counter chair, head facing the ceiling and taking a moment to just breathe. This was the fastest he’d ever rushed for the festival. And beneath it all, he still had seen nor heard a word from Mikleo. He could live with Mikleo wanting to step back and keep their relationship purely business, but he at least wanted his book. He threw an arm over his forehead, feeling the stress pulsating within his skull, when the door bells chimed.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Every sound on Sorey’s tongue died when he saw a puffy-eyed Mikleo. There were a few sniffles before Mikleo looked to Sorey for the shortest of moments. His eyes darted down for a moment, arms coiling around his abdomen.  
  
“Sorry… I-I don’t know why I came here…” Mikleo muttered, barely loud enough for Sorey to hear. Sorey ignored every pulse of his headache and straightened himself.   
  
“You don’t need to apologize. Can I help at all?” Mikleo rubbed an eye. Slowly, silently, he came to stand in front of the desk. Sorey gazed upwards with a small smile and waited. Violet eyes darted back and forth. Then he winced as he brought a hand to his forehead.   
  
“Is… there somewhere I can sit?” Sorey was quick to spring to his feet and motioned towards the back room. Mikleo was slow to follow, and Sorey kept his head turned enough to keep Mikleo in his peripheral.   
  
“It’s not ideal, but sit wherever you’d like. Can I get you anything? I’ve got a bunch of tea stashed around, or water.”   
  
“Tea would be great.” His usually calm voice came in fragments. Even as Sorey went through the motions of setting up the kettle, he kept his attention on the subdued sobs and sniffles. Mikleo hesitantly took a seat in the rocking chair.   
  
Silence still enveloped them, Sorey set a cup in front of Mikleo, who had started slowly rocking. Though his breaths were still short, Mikleo took a shaky sip before giving a side glance at Sorey, who slowly came to sit beside him.   
  
“Sorry. I just… got a little overwhelmed today.” He started. Sorey’s eyes fell to Mikleo’s shoulders, only to realize how much his entire body trembled. Mikleo’s gaze locked onto the table, but even Sorey could tell he wasn’t seeing it.   
  
“Do you want to talk about it? Or would you prefer taking your mind off it?” Mikleo set his cup back on the table. His arm came back to clutch his forearm. To see Mikleo cradling himself had Sorey’s chest tightening.   
  
There came no response, only the sound of Mikleo’s breathing and the creaking of the chair. Sorey took to doodling, and lost track of how long had passed. In a brief moment that he looked up, there came a large sigh.   
  
“…I… my appointment… went badly. To say the least.” He struggled with each word, and his brows furrowed with each pause. Sorey hummed for elaboration, but feared being seen as pushy. Glossy violet eyes hit Sorey for the briefest of moments, yet the fear in them made every hair stand on end.   
  
“Sorey, I should have told you sooner… but,” Mikleo clamped his eyes and mouth shut, swallowing hard before continuing “I’ve… my family has a hereditary disease.” His voice cracked, the strain of each syllable on his face. From their first meeting, Sorey had wondered. Rose had said it too. But Mikleo had seemed in such good health these past two months. He bit back a groan, eyes staying on Mikleo whose lips were restless.   
  
“They… it’s something rare. The only name they have for it is the Twelve Year Sickness.” Mikleo curled a leg against his chest, and avoided looking at Sorey.   
  
“My condition’s been stable for a while, but I…collapsed. The doctors kept me cooped up, and then today—” He stopped as tears fell. One hand covered his mouth while the other went to his stomach. Sorey shot up faster than he should have, and Mikleo had flinched backwards. Sorey didn’t know why he’d gotten up, or stepped closer to Mikleo without asking first.   
  
“Bathrooms right over there if you need it.” Sorey spoke low.   
  
Long moments passed before Mikleo looked at Sorey and slowly held a hand out. Hesitant to move, Sorey met Mikleo’s eyes.   
  
When Mikleo came to his feet, he almost instantly fell against Sorey. His hands hovered around Mikleo, who had buried his head into Sorey’s chest. Fingers twisted the fabric against his chest. In that moment Sorey let his arms wrap around Mikleo’s lithe waist. Muffled yet still loud sobs stung Sorey’s ears.   
  
Sorey began rubbing circles into Mikleo’s back, and whispering assurances that Mikleo could let it all out. Those assurances only lead to more sobbing. As arms slid around Sorey’s neck, he felt Mikleo’s legs shaking. Slowly, he moved towards the chair, announcing every little move he would make until eventually, he had Mikleo curled in his lap and they ever so slowly rocked.   
  
Sorey never stopped massaging different parts of Mikleo; where ever felt the most tense. Anytime Mikleo tried to force out a ‘sorry’ Sorey would pull him a little closer and reassure again and again that he didn’t mind. With each whisper, and a few daring kisses to Mikleo’s crown, the sobs faded.   
  
Mikleo’s breathing slowed to a point that Sorey wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Sorey would have sat there for centuries if need be. But then Mikleo stirred, wiping his nose with the back of his hand before he settled back against Sorey. This time though, Mikleo simply laid against Sorey. A tentative, shaking finger tracing veins on the back of Sorey’s hand. A few strained sounds left Mikleo before he managed to form whole words.   
  
“They’ve given me a year.” Every syllable struck like thunder for Sorey. Mikleo pushed himself off Sorey’s chest, rubbing at his eyes with the edge of his sleeve before meeting Sorey’s eyes. Sorey’s heart went still at how red Mikleo’s entire face was, and the shiny trails across his cheeks.   
  
“You don’t have to say anything. Mom’s struggling enough and seeing my brother and sister dragged down is just too much. And yet here I am dragging someone else down…” It had taken this long for Sorey to no longer feel petrified.   
  
“You’re not dragging me down. Just let me know what I can do okay?” He smiled softly. Mikleo slowly lifted himself out of Sorey’s lap and the chair. Finishing his now cold tea in one gulp, he set himself on a stool and overlooked Sorey’s table scattered with paper and wood chips.   
  
“Can you talk about what you’ve been working on?” Still recoiling from the emotional maelstrom, Sorey took a moment to switch gears. Then he beamed, and like lightning retrieved a small wooden chest. Nothing more than pencil lines decorated the lid, but inside had been lined with a soft velvet. There were numerous compartments built into the bottom and mesh netting placed along the inner lid.   
  
“The customer apparently runs a lot of tabletop gaming events and needed something to hold all their supplies, but they also have a Wind theme going, so I pulled from the Era of the Gods and had Hyanoa in mind for the style.” Sorey paused to retrieve his sketches. Mikleo took the crudely torn out sheet and Sorey watched the way those shimmering eyes skipped across the page. Then he looked up and over to the box.   
  
“None of that is permanent is it?”   
  
“It’s all pencil.” With that, Mikleo slid the paper across the table, his finger poised over a design with eight blades arranged to look like wings.   
  
“What if you let this symbol be the plating for the lock instead of being on top of the box?” Sorey pursed his lips as he looked at said symbol. A moment later he beamed at Mikleo.   
  
“That’s… how did I not think of that! And then instead of plain gold like I was gonna do, I can give it some green.” Mikleo chuckled at Sorey’s enthusiasm as he scribbled notes right on the sketch before lamenting about how he’d have to fill in the negative space left by moving that symbol. Mikleo began to offer suggestions, but recoiled, unsure if Sorey wanted them. Sorey was far too eager to hear every idea, and happily obliged in letting Mikleo watch him work, to which Mikleo became fascinated about the process of wood burning.   
  
Sorey had no trouble explaining everything about different wood types, and grains and how each one reacted to different heat levels all while he continued working. Sorey even dug out some wood scraps and let Mikleo get a hands on understanding for everything. Sorey was prepared for a burned finger, though it hadn’t happened as soon as he’d anticipated. Mikleo had started getting comfortable with making lines and darkening spots and hadn’t been paying attention to where his fingers rested. Sorey had his fair share of scars from the years, and even kept a jar with a raw honey and olive oil mix in the shop at all times. Even though Mikleo had heard of honey having healing properties, he still stared dumbstruck when Sorey took his hand and started spreading honey over his finger.

Despairing at the sticky feeling on his skin, Mikleo went for any conversation to distract himself. Sorey indulged him without hesitation for some minutes before grabbing a new washcloth to clean the excess honey. With the injury handled, Sorey set aside his own work for another day. Mikleo still seemed off balance, but otherwise better.

  
“Hey, um, did you have any plans for the festival?” Sorey blurted out. Mikleo stared blankly for a few moments before hiding behind a hand.   
  
“I’ve never actually gone…”   
  
“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Sorey turned away, rubbing his neck.   
  
“I’d be a burden for you anyway.” Mikleo lowered his hand, head dropping with it.   
  
“I wouldn’t have asked if I thought you’d be a burden. Just… let me know what you’d need.” Mikleo swayed for a moment before steadying himself on the table. A hand came to his forehead, index finger rubbing against his temple. Sorey bit back his offer of helping, having realized how pushy he’d been. He hoped Mikleo would ask for help if he really needed it. Mikleo’s face grew flushed as his eyelids fluttered.   
  
“Mikleo. Is there anything I can do?” Sorey could feel the tension, could see in how Mikleo recoiled that it was the wrong thing to ask. But he’d already said it. And could only hope Mikleo didn’t react badly. Mikleo exhaled largely before turning to Sorey. His face scrunched in a way that made Sorey brace himself. Instead of the expected lashing, Mikleo only sighed largely.   
  
“My family would feel better if I didn’t walk alone.” Sorey nodded before quickly grabbing his things and closing the shop down, even if it was early.   
  
Sorey held the door open for Mikleo, locking it on his way out. He stayed half a step behind Mikleo as he lead the way. Their pace was slow, Mikleo needing some moments of rest here and there. There hadn’t been much for conversation until about halfway.   
  
“I’m sorry for earlier. I had no right to throw that on you.”   
  
“Hey, it’s nothing to apologize for. So long as I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”   
  
“Not at all. I really appreciate having someone other than family… actually taking me serious.” Mikleo had muttered the final part. Sorey had caught it, but choose to pretend otherwise.   
  
“Don’t hesitate okay? If you want me for anything at all.” The last thing Sorey wanted was to push boundaries, but he truly did want to support Mikleo in whatever way he could.   
  
“Thank you Sorey.” As Mikleo finished, the backs of their hands had bumped, but Sorey immediately assumed it to be Mikleo’s balance. And the way Mikleo’s gaze stayed locked in front of him confirmed it. They managed to walk a little further before Mikleo needed to stop again.   
  
Under different circumstances, Sorey would have been blushing to have someone so attractive leaning against him. But in this situation, Sorey could only worry. Mikleo was warm. Sorey pushed back Mikleo’s bangs to rest the back of his hand on Mikleo’s forehead. Too warm. He gently shook Mikleo’s shoulder, causing his eyes to flutter to a half opened state.   
  
“C’mon. We’re almost there.” Sorey spoke low and soft. Mikleo nodded before placing a hand on Sorey’s bicep. Mikleo occasionally mumbled directions, sometimes only after Sorey prompted multiple times, but eventually, they made it.   
  
Mikleo detached from Sorey and braced himself against the front door. He looked weakly at Sorey. He mumbled, an apology for causing so much trouble before ducking inside. A small moment passed of Sorey wishing he could have at least been beside Mikleo until he knew someone else was there. But he trusted Mikleo could handle himself.   
  
Only now, on his walk home did everything start to sink in for Sorey. Twelve years sickness, huh? Sorey knew he’d heard of it at least once from Lailah, but he didn’t know anything about it. Once home, he skimmed through what few medical books he had only to find nothing beyond a mention. After responding to a text from Lailah about her picking up the latest set of pendants she’d ordered, he showered, flopped onto his bed and stared at Mikleo’s contact. His finger hovered over the message button.   
  
He wanted to make sure Mikleo was okay, but it was also late. Would he even be awake? Sorey couldn’t be certain, and with that thought would let his arm fall beside him.   
  
The memory of Mikleo huddled against his chest came rushing back. His chest hurt that entire time, knowing there was nothing he could do. Even in tears, Mikleo still held an ethereal beauty that Sorey couldn’t forget, even if he were reincarnated without any memories. But this still didn’t feel like how Alisha had spoken about Rose before they got together. Alisha had gone on and on about the heart flutters and stomach butterflies. But all Sorey felt was a sheer need to comfort Mikleo in anyway he could.   
  
There wouldn’t be any harm in a simple good morning message right? His thundering heart beat made him rethink sending that. But now there was no turning back. And so, his phone went to his night stand and he rolled himself in blankets, hellbent on falling asleep without looking at his phone again.   


* * *

  
  
Sorey woke to the buzzing of his phone, unburied a single arm to grab his phone, and proceeded to blind himself within his blanket cocoon. After flung blankets settled, he’d finally check his phone to find a message from Mikleo.   
  
_Good morning. Could I bother you for a favor?_   
  
_Sure!_   
  
_I have a physical therapy appointment today. But my family is busy and don’t want me going alone after yesterday._   
  
_Do you want me to come get you? When is it?_   
  
During this break between messages, Sorey had hopped out of bed, thrown on a pair of pants and rummaged around for a shirt. He hadn’t even bothered to check his phone until after he was ready to sprint out the door. That had been a good decision on his part since Mikleo’s appointment was within the hour. He sent a quick message to Alisha letting her know he’d be late to the shop. Then he was out the door. He struggled a bit to remember the exact route to Mikleo’s head taken, and worried he’d be late. Quickly though he recognized landmarks and knew he was on the right path. After having sent a quick message to let Mikleo know he was almost there, his pace quickened.   
  
Sorey wasn’t sure if he saw the house or the flash of silver first, but nonetheless he found Mikleo leaning against a support beam under awning. Upon seeing Sorey, Mikleo lifted himself and took shaking steps down the stairs. An awkwardness struck Sorey; did he offer help or would that seem insensitive? Should he say anything at all? After how Mikleo had been yesterday Sorey couldn’t be sure of anything.   
  
"Um, I hate to ask but... would it be okay if I held your arm? I'm still... not quite recovered." Mikleo's eyes only briefly met Sorey's before dropping.   
  
"Not a problem at all!" The words came out far more energetic than he'd intended. There was the slightest hint of a smile as Mikleo wrapped an arm around Sorey's bicep. Slowly they started walking.   
  
"Did you at least sleep well?" Sore blurted to break up the silence.   
  
"Not really. Better than normal. But what's good sleep anyway." Mikleo shrugged.   
  
"Well better is a good thing." Sorey felt like he was talking far too fast. "You okay otherwise?"   
  
"Okay, other than having an excruciating headache and every muscle aching, sure." Sorey bit back an apology. Mikleo didn't give off any sign of being in such pain, but Sorey knew in how the grip on his arm tightened that no part of those words were false. They started with a slow pace, Sorey keeping an eye on Mikleo. His gaze kept falling to pale skin, but he’d find some interesting rock on the ground every time violet eyes would spring towards him. There was a brief point where Mikleo pulled himself closer to Sorey, and Sorey expected to see flushed cheeks. Which he did, but Mikleo’s entire face was red. More so than a simple blush would cause. He noticed Mikleo’s steps growing weaker, more dragging than stepping.   
  
“Can we rest for a minute?” Mikleo muttered. Sorey nodded and led them over to a nearby bench. Instantly after sitting, Mikleo brought a hand to his head and a finger started rubbing circles into his temple.   
  
“I’m sorry. The headache from yesterday hasn’t left and I started getting dizzy.”   
  
“Are you sure you’re okay enough to go to this appointment?” Mikleo’s eyes fell at the question.   
  
“Probably not, but rescheduling usually leads to me getting worse” As his words trailed, he started digging through his bag and procured a water bottle and his cell phone.   
  
“I’ll just let them know I might be late.” His fingers danced across the screen for some quick moments before his phone was dropped back into his bag. Then Mikleo unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and took a long drink.   
  
“I shouldn’t have asked this of you.” Mikleo muttered as he lowered his bottle.   
  
“It’s no problem. Really.” Sorey felt a twist in his chest at the pained look in Mikleo’s eyes.   
  
“I’m enough of a burden to my family.”   
  
“Hey, a burden is having to carry a box of fabric across town because Rose forgot it. You could never be a burden.” Sorey smiled with the last part, and managed to get a smirk from Mikleo. There were a few moments of silence, of the two staring out in front of them.   
  
Sorey had the thought of taking Mikleo’s hand in his, but pushed that thought out faster than it had entered. Then Sorey felt his heart drop when a hand slid over his. He hadn’t expected Mikleo to initiate such sudden contact. Although one look at Mikleo’s face told him this wasn’t casual hand holding.   
  
“Can you help me up?” Mikleo spoke casually, and Sorey felt his cheeks flush. All those chick flicks with Alisha were messing with his perception of the situation. There was nothing cute or romantic about this.   
  
He gently held Mikleo’s hand, not pulling so much as supporting Mikleo pulling himself up. Although, Sorey had placed a hand against Mikleo’s hip to steady him once on his feet. Sorey waited until Mikleo had started moving to begin walking. Mikleo still kept a loose hand on Sorey’s arm, but stood more on his own now. They stayed in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the walk, still stopping here and there for Mikleo.   
  
As they entered the hospital, Mikleo remarked that he couldn’t believe they’d made it only ten minutes late. He had no hesitations in walking up to the main desk, the receptionist recognizing him on sight, and informing him that he was being waited on. With a small nod, he turned back to Sorey just in time to see a flash of orange spin around Sorey.   
  
“Woah, okay okay. I’m happy to see you too.” Sorey was breathless by the time he stopped spinning. Orange, still clinging to him, pulled back just enough to look up at Sorey. Sorey never could quite get used to someone short enough to bury their head against his stomach.   
  
“Those new piecez sold like crazys. White was try’na get a hold of youz. Gotz to split your payment up thiz month.” Sorey’s hands found their way to Orange’s shoulders.   
  
“Alright, alright. I’ll stop by before I leave okay?” Sorey tossed a quick sheepish look over his shoulder at Mikleo. He hadn’t anticipated any of the Turtlez being away from the shop. It was then that Orange had taken notice of Mikleo.   
  
“Youz with him Mikleo?” Orange titled his head.   
  
“I-uh. Yeah.”   
  
“Well well. Didn’t knowz you knewz your biggest fan Sorey.” Mikleo squeaked. Barely audible, but Sorey had caught it.   
  
“He comes in the shop all the timez. Eying up your stuff in particular.” Orange spoke matter of fact. As if this was just common knowledge. However, Mikleo was now completely red. Sorey suppressed a small chuckle, but could do nothing to hide his own blush.   
  
“I-I just admired the craftsmanship.” Mikleo’s nose turned upwards before his statement. Orange glanced at him before going back to Sorey to inform that he had been on his way out for a business matter, but that either White or Dark would be in the shop whenever he was ready. Sorey nodded, and thanked Orange before they separated and he found Mikleo still red.   
  
“C’mon, let’s get you where you need to be.” As much as Sorey wanted to stare at the picture of Mikleo trying to hide his face behind a single hand, he remembered why they were here. Mikleo nodded, letting himself get distracted in twisting down the halls.  He admitted that even he still got lost on particularly bad days.   
  
Sorey began to recognize some of the hallways. He knew this was starting towards Lailah’s office, but then they made a turn that took him down into an area he hadn’t been to. A couple more twists and turns, and one accidental circling, and they came to a wide open space that Sorey remarked as looking like a mini gym. Chairs were scattered around numerous sorts of exercise equipment; from bikes, to weights, to other things Sorey had never seen.   
  
Behind the glass wall that separated the space from the rest of the hospital were two men, both with green tipped silvery hair, seemingly in a heated argument. Mikleo sighed, drawing Sorey’s attention.   
  
“Looks like today was a bad day to bring you.” Mikleo slumped before trudging forward to push open the door, which instantly quieted both men.   
  
“About time.” The shorter of the two, who also had straight bangs that blocked his eyes scoffed.   
  
“Oooh but he’s got a looker on his arm.” The taller of the men spoke in such a boom that both Sorey and Mikleo instinctively looked around for anyone that may have heard. Mikleo shrank when he saw another patient who was often with Zaveid and Dezel before him.   
  
“Knock it off Zaveid. He’s just a… friend.” Mikleo’s hesitation at using ‘friend’ earned a raised eyebrow from Zaveid.   
  
“But this is the first time you’ve ever come with not family. What were we supposed to think?” Zaveid’s hands went to his hips and he grinned as if he had solved one of the world’s greatest mysteries.   
  
“That it’s normal for a kid his age to have friends outside their siblings.” The other man chimed in.   
  
“Dezel! You’re supposed to back me up.” Zaveid’s cries met with low chuckles from both Dezel and Mikleo. Zaveid huffed, arms crossing his chest before he fully faced Mikleo. Zaveid only needed to tap his foot against the tile before Dezel turned and started towards a set of chairs set by wall behind them. Mikleo fell in line behind Dezel as if it were the natural response. Zaveid followed behind Sorey, who looked like a lost puppy tailing Mikleo.   
  
Zaveid plopped down into a chair next to Dezel. Mikleo took a seat facing but also between the two, leaving Sorey the chair most off to the side. Dezel retrieved a notebook and pen from an inside pocket of his jacket and handed them to Zaveid before scooting within arms reach of Mikleo.   
  
“What am I checking today?” Dezel asked.   
  
“Well, after yesterday… everything hurts. But my legs have been weaker than normal.” Dezel said nothing in response, only held out his hands and waited while Mikleo slowly lifted a leg, setting his foot atop Dezel’s thigh. Sorey watched as fingers crawled over small parts of Mikleo’s leg, occasionally pushing in. Every time Mikleo would wince Zaveid would start scribbling.   
  
“The muscles are definitely still fatigued. Have you been getting enough water and stretching?” Dezel asked.   
  
“N-not as of-ow— yesterday.” Dezel sat back with a huff.   
  
“Mikster. You don’t need us to tell you how bad that is.” Zaveid said.   
  
“One day isn’t gonna hurt you too much. But you know you can’t afford to slack off.” Dezel’s tone was calm but there was an underlying snappiness that lead Sorey to believe this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.   
  
“Get your boytoy here to help you.” Zaveid’s suggestion caused instant flushing of Mikleo’s face. Sorey took an extra moment to register the ‘boytoy’ part before his own blush came, and he turned away to suddenly inspect the far side of the room.   
  
“Some tender love and care could do you some good.” Zaveid shot a look at Sorey, who froze.   
  
As things went on and Zaveid and Dezel continued bickering about all sorts of things Sorey couldn’t even track, and yet despite it all, Mikleo had no issues following along with every instruction as they went through his usual exercises. Every once in awhile, Zaveid would turn to Sorey and give him instructions for helping with things that Mikleo couldn’t quite do alone. Every time Mikleo’s face would turn pink.

Somewhere along the lines, Sorey became invested in Zaveid and Dezel’s weekend plans to go skydiving. The ‘Wind Daddies’ as Zaveid called them. Although Dezel sternly objected to the second half. Sorey lit up at the offer to tag along. He turned to Mikleo, who without hesitation gave a very harsh ‘no’ before heading for the door. If Sorey had ears on his head, they’d have fallen flat.

Somehow Mikleo managed to lead them back to the hospital front with little issue. Though, this did land them beside the gift shop. Sorey ducked in, expecting Mikleo to wait outside. Instead, Mikleo had followed Sorey, which lead to quite the jokes between the brothers. By the time they left, Sorey had to worry if Mikleo had developed a fever.  
  
Getting Mikleo home came with as many rest breaks as it had before, and yet each break became a chance for Sorey to get distracted. Lost in violet eyes one time, silver hair and aquamarine tips another, pale skin in the last that Sorey would allow. Everything compiling as Sorey stood on Mikleo’s doorstep, gazing straight into those eyes.   
  
“I don’t mean to push, but, um… did you… were you going to the festival?” Sorey found a split in one of the floorboards.  His mind wandered to ruins built into canyons. Temples dug into sheer cliff faces. If Mikleo rejected like he anticipated, Sorey didn’t want to see the negative look that would dull those bright violet eyes.   
  
“I suppose I should go at least once. Oh and I can start knocking things off the bucket list. Two birds with one stone.” Mikleo’s hands went to his hips. Sorey turned up to see a small smirk. “Where should I meet you?”   
  
“Um…” Sorey’s brain paused. He hadn’t thought he’d get this far. Nor had he anticipated Mikleo agreeing. “Come to the shop early?” Yes, that had been exactly what Sorey meant to say. He’d entirely meant to have Mikleo meet him at the shop instead of at the festival. Mikleo nodded and gave a small hum. Then there came silence as they gazed at each other.   
  
Sorey’s mind supplied him with far too many romance movie scenes of leaning forward to place a kiss on the love interest’s cheek. He shook his head, and gained a raised eyebrow from Mikleo.   
  
"It's nothing. I'll see you tomorrow?" Sorey put on his best smile and waited for Mikleo to sigh before giving a farewell and disappearing through the doorway.   
  
Sorey stood motionless for a few moments before patting his cheeks and forcing himself home.


	6. Chapter 6

Papers hit the floor as Sorey shot up, arms wide. Before he could even get the words out, Mikleo had crossed his arms, his lips pulled into a tight line.

“ There’s no way! That style came almost two hundred years  _ after  _ the Dark Ages.” Sorey had taken a step forward.

“ I’m telling you it can be traced back to the Era of Asgard. It just didn’t gain popularity until the Dark Ages.” Mikleo’s voice remained calm.

“ Where are you getting that? It’s been credited as a creation of—”

“ And I’m telling you that’s wrong.” Before Sorey could start his counter argument, the shop bells chimed. He spun around to see Rose, Alisha, and Sergei. All three held a colorful array of fabric.

“ Uh, isn’t that a bit much?” Sorey commented as he took in the size of each pile.

“ We’ve had a lot of time on our hands. Our booth is already fully stocked too.” Rose replied as she set her stack on the desk in front of Sorey. He twisted to glare at the person laughing beside him.

“ You have fun with that.” Mikleo gave him a light pat on the back as he stood and turned towards the door.

“ Not gonna stay and help poor Sorey?” Rose wagged a finger at him.

“ As much as I’d love to sift through a mountain of hand made yukata, I have to finish my own preparations.” His eyes fell for a brief moment. Sorey tensed up, but relaxed so as not to give anything away. As Mikleo reached the door, Sorey gave him a reassurance that his appointment would be good. Although, he had spoken this in the ancient tongue. Mikleo was quick to escape before Alisha spoke.

“ Oh dear, speaking in code already are you?” Alisha giggled. Sorey felt his skin turn to fire.

“ It’s nothing like that! There are just some things better conveyed in other languages.” Sorey crossed his arms, turning his nose up.

“ Like sweet nothings to your lover.” Rose nudged Alisha with her elbow.

“ It’s not like that!” Sorey fumed. As much as he would have liked to entertain the thought, he knew it wasn’t realistic. Befriending Mikleo was more than enough, and Sorey was determined to make whatever time Mikleo had as memorable as possible.

Pushing past all the teasing, he started hanging each yutaka on the racks he had built last year. Alisha went through attaching price tags to them all. While she and Rose rearranged the arrange them by color, Sorey moved to attaching prices to all of his pieces and arranging them on the tables throughout the store. He had sorted things by size and price, and placed the oddball knick-knack items in plain sight.

Sergei would give his two cents here and there, but mostly just laughed and joked with the girls. Once everything had been organized, Rose spun around to Sorey.

“ You got your yukata already right?” Sorey was taken aback by the suddenness, but nodded.

“ Good. That means we can get you ready.” Rose grinned.

“ Wh-What are you talking about?”

“ Rose and I will handle the shop so that you can enjoy your date.” Alisha had a small smirk. They had hired a few classmates recently so Sorey knew they had the ability to handle his shop the whole night.

“ Ugh, how many times do I have to tell you it’s not a date?” Sorey fumbled with the bowl of tops he’d set precariously on the edge of the table. He caught the bowl, but every single top clattered to the floor.

“ Yeah, we’ll believe it when one of you is dating someone else.” Rose waved a hand.

“ Even then, I’m not sure I’d believe it.” Alisha crossed her arms. Sorey slammed the bowl a little too forcefully onto the table. The muscles of his face twitched, blood pooling in his cheeks but he drained every ounce of strength to keep a neutral face.

“ I must admit, I’ve never seen you so enamored, Sorey.” Sergei’s voice crumbled Sorey’s defenses. His only escape was ducking into the back room. Except, that had been exactly where Rose and Alisha wanted him.

He sighed in defeat as he unpacked his yukata. Rose grumbled about it being the same one he’d worn for years, but Alisha, as always, stated that it suited him.

He slipped into his under dress and had gotten as far as setting the yukata on his shoulders before Rose had seized the obi. They went through this routine every year, yet Sorey still had no clue why. Although this year, she spent more time as she tugged each edge into place. She made quick work tying the obi in a strong bow that rested on against his right hip. Begrudgingly, he did a spin around for Rose, who proceeded to smile at him.

Smoothing out folds in the navy blue-accented white fabric left him blind to Alisha diving in to throw his hair into disarray. He jerked back, only to collide into Rose. With her holding his shoulders, all hope of escape was lost. A heavy sigh, and he resigned himself to their mercy. This wasn’t the first year they’d attempted to doll him up. But this was the first year they’d been successful.

Thirty minutes later, and with combined effort, Rose and Alisha had gotten Sorey’s hair to lay flat and look the nicest it had in his entire life. With twin smiles, they pulled him back to the main room, seeking Sergei’s approval. Once he nodded, Rose grinned before pushing Sorey towards the door.

“ Get. Go meet up with the future boyfriend.” He glared at her, but chose to spin around and start walking. About a yard away from the shop he looked over his shoulder before deflating. Rose and Alisha’s constant teasing and confidence was understandable. Deep down, Sorey wished for even the chance to grow that close to Mikleo.

But that couldn’t happen. He knew that regardless of what his fluttering chest meant, his goal to make Mikleo smile as much as possible was the only thing that he could do. He shook his head, completely undoing the girl’s work, and started towards the planned meeting place.

Summer festivals were always interesting in how they worked around the forest. Food vendors lined the main roads, while the game and shop booths weaved around the trees. Usually Sorey would be staking these out to find the ones with the best, most winnable prizes. This year, however, he stared at his feet as he focused on keeping a pace that was fast but not too fast. He wanted to be on time, not early, but not late. Would Mikleo be punctual? Would Sorey end up being late anyway? Or would Mikleo be late?

He froze both in his tracks and thoughts at the sound of his name. His head shot up to find a sight that would leave him breathless. Silver strands of silk pushed back, revealing a golden circlet set with a green gem, a loose teal sleeve falling down a delicate arm, a gold accented black obi that accentuated an hourglass figure _._ Wing-like patterns carried him back up and to a neckline that exposed skin glistening like newly fallen snow. He may have lingered too long on glossy pale lips that looked feather soft. Silver brows knit together while half lidded, glowering amethyst eyes.

Sorey scratched at his jaw, forcing his eyes up to the orange sky. Orange was a nice color. He liked it enough to wear earrings that color. But seeing the purple of dusk had become a new favorite recently. 

“ What’s with that look?” Between each word came the tap of his wooden shoe against the dirt.

“ Look? What look?” The clouds were extra fluffy today, and Sorey could see a prickleboar, even more so with how the setting sun colored it.

“ You owe me some taiyaki now.” Mikleo’s arms crossed as his lips curved into a pout. That moment was when Sorey had chosen to look down.

“ Okay, okay. Just stop making that face. Please.” He received a light nod and the uncrossing of arms before they began walking. Their pace was slow, with Mikleo leading. Sorey’s eyes kept wandering across Mikleo’s yukata. He told himself he was examining the patterns and color gradient.

Without warning, Mikleo made a sharp turn, which Sorey followed with ease, and then moments later, a scent hit him. They stood in front of a stall selling an assortment of fish shaped cakes. While digging out his coin pouch, Sorey questioned Mikleo’s flavor choice. Somehow he wasn’t surprised that Mikleo wanted a custard one. Sorey on the other hand, went for red bean.

Mikleo took the smallest bite, yet lit up brighter than any star. How someone could be so dazzling by nature baffled Sorey, but this - Mikleo with closed eyes, lips curved up, a hand on his cheek, and the lightest flush to his cheeks - was something Sorey hoped he could see daily. Seeing Mikleo this happy every day, that was his dream.

Sorey tucked his arms into his sleeves as they continued walking after finishing their cakes. Though they had ate in mostly silence, Sorey had thought back to that morning. Hours spent researching, and debating with Mikleo to learn more of his historical preferences. All for the thing that had brought Mikleo to him.

Here they were at a festival, and Sorey was sulking. Never one to let himself sulk for too long, especially with company around, he desperately searched for a distraction. They walked a little further before he spotted a tank shimmering gold.

Noticing all the other obvious couples around the tank, Sorey second guessed his choice. However, one look at Mikleo’s face and all worries left Sorey’s mind. While he knew he’d have the air of an awkward teen trying to impress their first crush, Sorey didn’t care. This wasn’t about winning Mikleo’s affection; only seeing that smile again for the second time already.

Despite all the patience he had when woodworking, catching a simple goldfish in a paper hoop required too much. Attempt number seventeen and he’d gotten one out of water, only for the net to rip a moment before the fish would have been in the bowl.

Every attempt had Mikleo chuckling, and before Sorey could think about buying another three chances, Mikleo took the stage. Unlike Sorey who had been quick to jump the moment a fish stopped, Mikleo sat still, bangs falling forward, yet not disturbing his focus. It was like watching an Elysialark stalking it’s prey, slow and calculating. And then at the exact perfect moment, it dove and in one swoop brought it’s catch upward. Though a bird could never match the amount of grace Sorey had witnessed.

Mikleo held a smug grin as he displayed the orange fish swimming in circles within a plastic bag.

“ One try… who even…” Sorey grumbled as Mikleo wore a smirk the entire time they walked. Never letting Sorey forget how impatience didn’t pay off. They both agreed to a quick stop by the shop, to leave the goldfish they had collectively agreed to name Tiamat, in Rose and Alisha’s care.

Where they were headed after that was a mystery, both just walking for the sake of continuing to move. Though, he’d noticed Mikleo slowing down more and more as time went on. Mikleo hadn’t shown any signs. Nothing overtly obvious at least. But Sorey could see the trembling. His chest rising and falling faster than normal, and how red his skin had become.

His eyes landed on a stand that didn’t cry for attention yet had a crowd around it. A simple origami stand, complete with novelty paper for sale and a handful of people teaching how to make just about anything one could imagine. Sorey was about to suggest it since it’d give Mikleo a chance to sit and rest, but before he could say a word, there came a high pitched squeak. Suddenly, he was pulled aside and spun around, Mikleo flush against him.

“ Please, just don’t move.” He begged, watching just past Sorey’s shoulder. Sorey couldn’t be sure if the sudden echoing pulse was Mikleo’s heart, or his. He didn’t feel nervous enough to demanded the pounding against his ribs. Although his full focus sat on Mikleo, whose eyes were following  _ something. _

Slow seconds —or had it been minutes?— ticked by before Mikleo let go of Sorey’s collar and stepped back.

“ Oi, Mikleo.” A deep voice rang. Mikleo shrieked, stiffened, and yet somehow also tripped over his own feet. Straight into Sorey’s arms.

They had come to face the opposite direction now, towards the road. Sorey spotted a small blond girl followed by a towering giant of a man headed towards them.

“ Finally found you. Mom said you were coming here,” the girl started lazily, and then eyed Sorey and his arms around Mikleo’s waist., “She didn’t mention you having  _ company _ .” 

Sorey gulped. Behind her, the taller man stared with a fierce gaze; burning with an intensity that made Sorey recall descriptions of locking eyes with dragons.

Mikleo shifted against Sorey, half pulling away only to clutch at Sorey’s obi. A few more moments passed of Mikleo avoiding the two blonds before he eventually pulled away.

“ S-Sorey, this is Edna and Eizen.” He paused to wave respectively at each one. “My siblings.” Mikleo’s eyes hit the ground. Sorey wasn’t sure where to look, and ended up sticking on the little bit of gold he could see between Mikleo’s bangs.

“ Wait a minute. Aren’t you the guy that runs that wood shop?” Eizen questioned in a much softer tone than Sorey would have expected.

“ Uh, yeah.” Sorey rubbed an arm as his eyes met Eizen’s briefly.

“ I’ve only been in there a couple times, but I did like all the subtle historical inspirations.” Sorey perked up. Compliments on his work were always uplifting, but having someone recognize his inspirations was even more so.

“ Eizen.” Edna huffed beside him. Eizen met her gaze as he sighed and then turned towards Mikleo. His eyes shot to Sorey for a quick moment. Then Eizen said something, not in common tongue, but ancient. Despite how fluent Sorey considered himself, this was a level he could barely understand. He noticed Mikleo nodded along, with an occasional hum or word of acknowledgment in addition.

Edna twirled her parasol around, her face the picture of boredom. Although, that turned into pure snarkiness when she saw Mikleo go beet red upon turning to Sorey. Violet eyes went wide before vanishing as Mikleo spun around towards Edna. He was silent though; earning a quizzical look from Edna, and a smirk from Eizen.

“ You two going to join us for the fireworks?” Eizen spoke mostly to Mikleo.

“ We could. But I wanted to…” Mikleo trailed off as he clutched an elbow. Eizen hummed, before he and Edna gave their farewells and started walking away. Mikleo waved them off.

As they started to walk, Sorey a step behind Mikleo, had only now realized something.

“ Hey Mikleo,”

“ Hm?”

“ Your brother seemed pretty fluent in Ancient Tongue—”

“ He was busy that day!” Mikleo replied all too quickly, his words muffled none by the hand against his mouth. Admittedly, Sorey knew he missed social cues sometimes, but there was no mistaking this one. Although the exact reason  _ why _ Mikleo had chosen Sorey that day, he couldn’t be sure. Having seen how nervous and flushed the subject had made Mikleo, Sorey opted to drop it and focus on their walk along the river.

After a while they came to a small circular clearing that had a couple benches with plaques in the dirt beneath them. The one below the bench Mikleo sat on read  _ Michael Rulay.  _ Sorey glanced at the other plaque as he sat beside Mikleo,  _ Velvet & Laphicet Crowe. _

“ Velvet was my great great grandmother. Laphicet her son. Michael was my uncle.” His fingers curled against the edge of the bench. Sorey became mindful of leaving ample space between them and scooted away as Mikleo continued. “Mom used to come here every year. Watch the fireworks with them.” Pain twisted Mikleo’s features. He looked ready to cry. Sorey looked down just in time to see Mikleo’s hand start to reach for his before it shot back.

Mikleo’s ragged breaths caused Sorey to question if asking Mikleo here had been a bad idea.

“ You okay?” Sorey was scared to ask.

“ I’m fine.”

“ Sorry. I shouldn’t—”

“ I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t handle this.” Mikleo almost grit his teeth as he spoke. Sorey moved even further away.

With the first pop of fireworks launched, Mikleo flinched. Sorey let out a large breath he’d held in. He wanted nothing more than to hold Mikleo again. Kiss his head until he felt better. But Mikleo did nothing to close the space between them this time.

During a moment of silence, Mikleo brought a hand against his chest, which lead to Sorey realizing how rapid his breathing had gotten. He must have made a sound because Mikleo turned to him suddenly. He inched towards Sorey, a pause between each inch. Hesitation came with every movement that lead to Mikleo leaning against Sorey’s shoulder.

Mikleo still flinched with every crack, but much more subtle now. Every urge Sorey felt to pull Mikleo closer was shoved into the corner. He refused to give in to any of those temptations. Thus, they’d sit like that for the remainder of the show.

Sorey wouldn’t give Mikleo a choice in the matter when it came to being walked home that night.

 

* * *

 

The scratching of pencil against paper, and the low hum from his orange headphones had Sorey in a world all his own. Even if he was the only one running the shop today, at least he sat at the desk and not the back room. As he added more detail to his current sketch, he had a delayed reaction to the chiming of the bell. Taking his headphones off, he turned upwards to greet his customers, only for a pathetic squeak to weasel past his closed lips.

A small blond girl twirling a parasol on her shoulder, followed by a taller blond. Edna and Eizen. Sorey couldn’t forget their faces after last night. Seeing them out of yukata was the only thing that threw him off.

Eizen, with those piercing blue eyes and even more dragon like demeanor now that he wore a black trench coat, was enough for Sorey to know what was coming. Even more so with his arms crossed over his chest. Edna looked innocent as she twirled her parasol, faking eying up wares.

“ Sorey, right? Let me just get to it. Stay away from Mikleo.” Never once did she look at him. Never once did Eizen cease glaring.

“ I’m sure you’re a good guy and all but Mikleo…” 

Sorey sighed, unintentionally interrupting Eizen.   “ You’re protecting him.” 

Eizen’s arms uncrossed at this. He and Edna exchanged surprised looks.

“ Oh? He’s actually told you.” She set the end of her parasol against the ground as she shot a glance at Eizen. “Then why stay near him?” 

Sorey slid back in his chair. He’d asked himself this plenty of times, had questioned why he continued stick by Mikleo. His answer never changed. “ I want to make him smile.” 

Edna and Eizen both stared blankly, silently. Waiting. Only when Sorey looked up did he realize this.

“ The day we met, I realize now why he was hiding it. But there was so much sadness in his eyes. And then we starting talking and the way he lit up…” Sorey stopped, a soft smile accompanying his dull eyes.

“ You know there’s no future with him.” Edna’s tone like jagged rocks.

“ I know. But that only makes me want to make him even happier now.” Sorey set his arms on the desk, almost ready to lay on them, but instead he sat back and gave a large smile to the pair.

“ I just want what’s best for him. But if you think—”

“ Edna, he’s already proven himself better than the others.” Her eyes fell to the side for a long while, teeth tugging back her lower lip.

“ Fine. But so help me if you do  _ anything  _ to hurt him.” Edna almost growled, having come all the way to the desk to nearly touch his nose with her parasol. Sorey hadn’t been ready to fear for his life more at her hands than Eizen’s.

“ I’ll let you punch me where ever you choose.” That seemed to appease her. Enough for her to at least lower the parasol.

“ He gets one too.” Sorey gulped as he met Eizen’s smirk.

“ O-okay.” He had no reason to object. The thought of continuing to make Mikleo smile made his heart flutter still. Edna gave a scrutinizing look, while Eizen’s was oddly comforting. With one last exchange of words, and Sorey freezing at the them referring to him as Mikleo’s boyfriend, the two siblings left.

A hand came over Sorey’s wildly beating heart. After many many deep breaths, he pulled out his phone and pulled up his conversation with Rose. She proceeded to laugh at the situation. He wanted to be mad at her, but recoiled upon remembering that she didn’t know about Mikleo’s condition. He switched over to send a quick message to Mikleo, knowing full well he may not receive a response for hours.

Sorey looked to his multitude of sticky notes adorning his desk - his to do list both in routine business and in projects. His heart dropped to his stomach seeing the single note with only one word written on it, ‘coffin’. It’d been there so long he’d stopped seeing it, and beneath all the festival prep he hadn’t a chance to acknowledge it’s existence again. He’d gotten through sending an email to Lucas about the wood pick up, and had just picked up his phone when the storefront bells chimed.

He looked up to meet a woman with a long brunette braid reaching halfway down her back. Her cream colored dress swayed along with the tails of her maroon jacket. She took a moment to eye a few of the works sitting around the floor as she made her way to the desk.

She wanted a custom piece; a flute case. Simple enough, but she wanted it made of rosewood. Sorey was going to end up with enough extra for something this size, so really it worked out. Although she wanted it by a specific date that meant Sorey had to charge extra for priority bumping. He hated adding charges, but she happily accepted and even gave him half the quoted price then and there. With contact details exchanged, she went on her way.

As Sorey made a new sticky note for this piece, and tacked it above the coffin one, his phone rang with Rose’s ring tone. She and Alisha were going to the Mabinogio bar. This was less an invitation and more of him being told. Going out to drink wasn’t Sorey’s thing, but Rose liked having him there, and somehow always roped him into it. That day she had tempted him with the promise of them baking later.

It’d been almost a year since he’d been to this bar, but he never tired of seeing the namesake ruins it was built near. Not until he’d reached the door did he realize what Rose had been plotting. In big letters across the outside chalkboard were the words, ‘karaoke night’. Oh no, there was no way she’d get him to sing. No matter how drunk he got. With a large huff he stepped into the bar. Finding Rose, already on her third drink, he slid into the booth next to Alisha.

She launched into a long rant about her day and how impossible people were. Sorey was silently thankful he’d never entered the same type of retail she had. All her horror stories about how people would argue prices that she had no control over, complain that she was being unreasonable for not giving them everything they wanted, and the worst being the creeps that tried to hit on her. Alisha hid her laughter behind a hand. Rose slopped her drink as she pointed at Alisha for laughing. Then she shot a sharp glare at Sorey, who couldn’t keep his amusement internal. 

With Rose grumbling, Alisha started recounting her day’s events. Though she had days where her stories could top Rose’s, today was a more lackluster one. Elyisa University held a campus wide event for encouraging students to buckle down and study for finals. Consistent to every single previous year, all of four students showed up to Alisha’s lecture. Even though Alisha was only an assistant teacher, still working through her degree, she was always handed these lectures that the professors were tired of. 

“C’mon Sorey, you gotta drink more than that.” Rose said only moments after Alisha had finished her story. Her eyes had hit Sorey’s recently emptied glass. 

“When do I ever drink much?”

“What if I bought us a round of mango jello shots?” She grinned. This wasn’t actually a question. Sorey had a large weakness for mango. He didn’t have a chance to object before she was waving for their server, who was practically best friends with Rose. 

“To Sorey finally having a boyfriend!” Rose exclaimed as they all tapped their glasses together. 

“He’s not--”

“Shhhh shot time. Go.” Sorey was the first to set his glass back on the table. 

“Damn. I always forget how fast you are when it’s mango. Best out of three? Winner gets my weekly free drink.” Rose’s wager was tempting. She seldom bet on her ‘frequent customer’ reward. Sorey had just enough alcohol in his system to agree. 

Two shots later, Sorey with another perfect record, and Rose wobbled out of the booth. Sorey glanced worriedly at Alisha.

“I haven’t a clue what she’s getting you.” Alisha wasn’t convincing. She’d even let out a light laugh, which only worried Sorey more. Anticipation rose with each passing second until Rose returned.

She set down a rather small glass. Amber liquid sat atop golden-orange with a lime hanging on the rim. No one except bar staff knew exactly what went into this concoction called a Feather-bomb. This house special had such a reputation that there was a board for everyone that could tolerate it without being obviously drunk. Sorey gulped as he realized he now knew both the blond man and silver haired man on that board.  Starting on this drink would be something he knew he’d regret, but he couldn’t let Rose’s free drink go to waste.

Only half way through the drink, and Sorey had his arms around Alisha, squeezing the life out of her. Rose gave a knowing look before snapping at Sorey, who jumped three feet in the air and landed on the edge of the booth. Satisfied with her moment of picking on drunk Sorey, she sauntered up to the microphone. Always the first to kick these nights off.

Sorey slid his head into his hands, softly gazing at her, and then he blinked and she was back at the table. Rose motioned towards the stage while looking at Sorey. He shook his head, earrings clinking. She slid her arms across the table to clutch his hand, rubbing circles into the back of it.

“ For me?” She cooed while tilting her head with her best pout. His already aflame cheeks flared even more. Drunk Sorey had zero resistance to puppy eyes. He grumbled as he shakily stood and wobbled to the stand, with Alisha in tow. Like hell he would do this alone.

She picked the song and waited until Sorey was situated in front of the microphone. Sorey’s eyes slid closed, thinking of one person, and mumbling something in Ancient Tongue before the song started. Alisha had let out a soft gasp that Sorey failed to acknowledge. Once the lyrics had started Sorey forgot everything. There was only the bass pounding and his lips somehow forming words.

Applause from the entire room snapped Sorey back to reality once his song had ended. Sorey ducked back to the table. He noticed Rose slide his phone across the table and instantly grabbed it and started typing out one typo-ridden message.

After that there would be a blank in his memories. He’d remember leaving the bar and then the next moment, he was in bed, completely nude and staring at his phone. He’d managed to get one photo of Mikleo at the festival. Just after the fireworks show, he’d convinced Mikleo to take a picture together for memories sake. Even drunk, Sorey couldn’t stop thinking about how much more he wanted to see that smile.

 

As morning came, sunlight bursting through between the curtains and straight onto Sorey’s face, he stirred and buried his face into his pillow. He hoped that somehow that would stop the pounding in his head. Fragmented memories of the previous night left him lying there uncovered as he’d kicked every blanket to the floor in his sleep. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember sending a text. 

He jumped to find his phone. Praying to Maotelus he didn’t text  _ him.  _ There was a scramble to find where exactly he’d thrown his pants, and then another scramble to find which pocket had his phone. That may have been a world record for fastest phone unlock, but Sorey could only focus on his message log. While he had indeed texted Mikleo, that was only a mess of letters and improper grammar that Rose had been mean. 

What had Sorey nearly fainting on the spot was the message,  _ ‘Ain’t he such a charmer’ _ and an attached video. 


End file.
